House Pet

Posted originally on the Archive of Our Own at http://archiveofourown.org/works/38484064.

Rating: Explicit
Archive Warning: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Category: F/M
Fandom: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Relationship: Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy
Character: Hermione Granger, Draco Malfoy, Theodore Nott, Original Characters,
Harry Potter, Ron Weasley, Lucius Malfoy, Katie Bell, Dean Thomas,
Justin Finch-Fletchley, Charlie Weasley, Blaise Zabini, Bellatrix Black
Lestrange, Severus Snape, Luna Lovegood
Additional Tags: The Prince of Egypt, Fertility Issues, Wandless Magic (Harry Potter),
Dark Magic, BAMF Hermione Granger, Clever Draco Malfoy, Shared
First Times, Obsessive Behavior, Forced Cohabitation, Blood Magic
(Harry Potter), Destroy the World Draco, Power Couple, No Voldemort,
Competition for Witch, Loveable Theo Nott, Brainwashing, Dark Magic
Rituals (Harry Potter), Torture, Alternate Universe, Coming of Age,
River of Blood, Handmaid's Tale themes, Grooming, coven - Freeform,
Loss of Virginity, Loss of Innocence, Character Death, Dubious
Consent, Vaginal Sex, Oral Sex, Masturbation, Suicide, Domestic
Violence, DV not from Draco, War, Attempted Sexual Assault,
Kidnapping, unethical use of Polyjuice Potion
Language: English
Collections: Drown me in this fic I'll die happy, WIP Dramione Masterlist, ultimate
dramione rereads
Stats: Published: 2022-04-19 Updated: 2022-10-23 Chapters: 18/? Words:
76025

House Pet
by NinaBinaBallerina

Summary

After a dark curse, the wizarding world is left barren. Facing extinction, the Purebloods
subjugate the muggles, searching for the rare muggleborns—the only witches able to
reproduce.

Raised in the Nott household as a pampered pet, Hermione is forced to enter the Trials as
she comes of age—a competition created for pureblood wizards to claim a breeder.
Determined to win her, Draco Malfoy only knew two things: she belonged to him, and he’d
destroy anyone who tried to take her.

But the cries of the enslaved muggles pierce through Hermione's comfortable life, causing
her to reexamine everything she thought she knew about her world and the people in it. She
soon discovers that the ancient call of magic and vengeance cannot be denied.
 Plot inspired by the Prince of Egypt, with themes from the Handmaid's Tale.

Notes

Edited by the lovely MyPrivateInsanity

Update Schedule: Every Sunday, except for family events and vacations, which I will
inform you about ahead of time.

Song Suggestion: The Prince of Egypt Soundtrack- “Deliver Us”

If you want to have a feel for the last half of the story, listen to “The Plagues” on the same
soundtrack.

Important information before we begin:

• Dumbledore killed Voldemort during the first war, but the Death Eaters won anyway.
• Injured from his duel with Voldemort, Dumbledore gave his life to curse the wizarding
population with infertility, intending to wipe them out.
• The unintended magical loophole—Purebloods and halfbloods can only reproduce with
muggleborns.
• To avoid extinction, the purebloods kidnap the muggleborns at first sign of accidental
magic. They are then raised in pureblood households until they are adults and forced to
participate in the Trials—a competition where wizards vie for the right to continue their
lineage with the muggleborn.
• The entire muggle populations of Europe and Asia are subjugated, and they are punished
if they try to conceal muggleborns.
• I created a new character named Titus Nott (Theo’s older brother). He’s sixteen in the first
chapter.
 A Powerful Muggleborn

The screams woke Hermione.

She slipped out of her bed, holding her stuffed bunny, Hopper, and watched from the window as
the monsters walked down the street in billowing capes and skull masks. Light spewed from sticks
dangling from their fingers, so bright it ignited the night sky. The dark figures walked in and out of
the houses, fading into the twilight. Soon after, the world outside erupted into colors: green and
red, like Christmas lights. One neighbor walked outside with an old hunting rifle and aimed, but a
neon green light hit him in the chest, and he crumpled over.

"Oh God, they're here," her father said outside her door. "We need to leave. The Order assured us
they concealed her accidental magic."

"I don't think they're here to take Hermione. They must know of our involvement in the last attack.
They're going to kill this entire street for harboring us. She's still in danger. They won't spare her
because she's a child."

"I'm not leaving without you!" Her father roared just above a whisper.

"My bad leg would never make it. Please go before it's too late. I'm begging you… for Hermione.
Travel on foot. All the roads and trains are monitored, especially now. There's no time."

They both made gasping cries before her father came into Hermione's room and grabbed her. Noise
filtered through from the outside: screams, explosions. Hermione shivered in terror, not
understanding what was happening.

"Be brave, my sweet." Her mother kissed her forehead and choked back a cry. "Be kind. Be wise.
And be strong. Now go!" Her parents gave each other one hard kiss before her father began to run,
exiting the front door, evading notice.

Hermione held on to her father's neck as he sprinted. He clutched her tight, ducking and twisting.
Hermione buried her face into the side of his jumper, not wanting to know where they were going
or who they ran from. The air outside smelled of something burning, sharp and foul.

They kept going at a grueling pace until the moon hung high in the sky. Her father was shaking and
panting, stumbling around houses and buildings, but did not stop until they reached the
countryside. From there, his steps slowed, feet tripping on branches, breathing labored.

"I can smell you," a voice carried over the shrubbery. "Pathetic muggle. I can’t believe you thought
you could get away."

In response, her father reached down, dug into the wet earth, and covered her in mud, a little at a
time, until it dripped from her as they wove through the trees. After a minute, he stopped and
placed her behind some bushes that prickled against her skin. His lips brushed her forehead. "Stay
here, Hermione, and don't come out." He lifted her chin, forcing her to look at him. "No matter
what you see or what you hear, do not come out. Remember that I always love you."

Hermione nodded in fear, her little curls bouncing, and clutched Hopper close to her chest. She'd
never heard her father sound so serious or so scared. Just yesterday, she had blown out the candles
on her seventh birthday cake, her father and mother clapping alongside her. She'd promised him
before bed she would be big and brave– but she didn't feel very big and brave.
He shoved her further behind the bushes, hair tangling in the brush. She whimpered but didn't have
time to protest before her father leapt away from her.

He didn't get far. As soon as he had taken a few steps, a beast entered the little clearing. At least
she thought he was a beast. His face was furrier than normal, and his teeth looked sharp. She could
smell his musky, rotten scent from where she sat.

"Fenrir," her father said.

The beast grinned.

"Granger." He gave a little nod. "It's a shame I can't eat you, but Malfoy wants you all to himself.
You were foolish enough to kill his wife in the last attack."

Her father lunged away, but Fenrir was faster and stronger, subduing him quickly and forcing him
to his knees.

It didn't take long for the other monsters to arrive, all dressed in black cloaks with frightening skull
masks. Hermione almost gave herself away with a whimper of terror. Five of them melded into the
darkness, all adults except one. The littlest monster took off his miniature mask, and she realized
he wasn't a monster at all, but a boy who looked her age. He had bright blond hair with pale skin,
and eyes red from crying, though he tried to hide it, swiping at his face to get rid of a tear.

The boy looked normal enough, though she understood instinctively he wasn't a boy like her
friends from school.

"Is this the insect, Father?" The boy snarled. "The one that killed Mother?"

"Yes, Draco." Long blond wisps of hair hung down from behind the mask, and Hermione
understood he was the boy's father. "Robert Granger. The infamous rebel genius."

"Draco shouldn't be here," another monster said. He had a dark black mask, smooth as glass. "He's
too young. I doubt you're going to make his death pleasant."

"The boy has a right to see his mother's killer executed. A right to justice. Theo should be here too.
After all, the blast killed both your parents as well, Nott."

"I didn't mean to kill the women," her father yelled. "I meant to kill you!"

The beast that held her father yanked his head back. The blond monster walked forward, placing a
stick under his chin.

"Unfortunately for you, you didn't. Before I end your pointless existence, I want you to know
everyone is dead. The muggles are at our mercy, the Order is fractured, and the rebellion is over.
They're all lying in their own blood now, including your precious wife."

Her father gave a guttural noise and tried to surge forward, but the beast gripped his hair more
firmly.

"She fought hard. I'll grant her that. I wished to bring her here and slice her throat in front of you…
or maybe I'd have kept her. That might have hurt you worse, I imagine, and there'd be a certain
level of symmetry to the idea. She was beautiful for a muggle, I admit. I think I would have
enjoyed her. Alas, she managed to kill herself before I could decide. So noble… so wasteful."

Her father choked on a sob, and Hermione bit her hand to keep from crying out, shaking behind the
bushes. Her mother couldn't be dead, could she?

"Kill me," her father said. "I don't care."

The monster pressed the stick hard into her father's skin.

"I don't suppose you would." The blond monster glanced around. "Though you would care if I
killed your daughter. I saw the pictures. A cute little bug, so easily squashed."

Her father tensed.

"She's not here."

"That's exactly what a father would say if she was close. You hid her well. Fenrir can't scent her,
but there are other ways to flush out animals."

Her father spit on the ground near the monster's feet, and the little boy grimaced in disgust. In a
fury, the man placed the stick next to her father's temple. "Crucio!"

A light erupted from the stick, and her father began screaming. The noise scraped down
Hermione's skin. The beast let him go, and her father writhed on the ground, twisting into various
grotesqueries of pain. It went on and on, until Hermione couldn't stand it. She had promised to stay
hidden, but she needed to help her daddy.

"Stop, stop… don't hurt him!"

Hermione burst from behind the bushes and flung herself on top of her unconscious father. He
twitched under her, and she placed her head against his jumper to muffle her sobs.

"The little rat has come out of hiding," the blond monster said. He pointed the stick in her direction,
and Hermione flinched, digging her fingers into her father’s soft jumper. Hopper slipped from her
hands. "He even coated you with mud to hide your scent. So clever, and so fitting."

"Lucius," young Nott warned. "She's Draco's age. I refuse to participate in killing children, no
matter how much you hate the father."

"Baby muggles grow up to be big muggles. This one has already shown bad breeding. I would be
doing the muggles a favor to weed out the rotten ones, but you're right..." He dropped his stick to
his side. "Killing the young is below a wizard. Fenrir, take the child and do with her as you please.
Just don't make too much of a mess."

The beast gave a thrilled snarl and stepped toward Hermione. Something familiar and warm
simmered inside her chest. It shot down her limbs and into her belly. It sparked, filling her whole
body. She'd felt it in the past, but now it was intensified by her fear. When the beast reached down
to pluck her off her unconscious father, Hermione let it loose.

"Don't touch me!" A wave of bright energy burst from her, flinging the beast backward and into a
tree, making a sickening snap.

The clearing went silent.

"A mudblood!" Lucius tugged off his mask, revealing sharp handsome features that resembled his
son. He looked like the beautiful angels in her grandmother's church, face in an expression of
delighted surprise. "Granger was hiding her from us. The order too. It all makes sense now."
"A powerful mudblood," another monster said—this one much larger than the others—and they
glanced back to Fenrir, still crumpled under the tree. None of them seemed concerned for the beast.

"The most powerful I've seen from someone her age." Lucius agreed. "She'd produce impressive
offspring. Rabastan, go check Greyback."

One of the wizards in a skull mask walked over, bent down next to the beast, and then stood back
up.

"I can't fucking believe it," he said. "The girl killed him."

Lucius gave a deep laugh, uncaring that the beast had died. He leaned down and grabbed her father
by his hair, jolting him awake. Hermione tried to make the energy spark again, but couldn’t– it
didn't always obey her. She slid off as Lucius tugged her father to his knees. Instead, she clutched
his side. Her father's strong arm wrapped around her, pulling her close, while his eyes fluttered
open.

"Hear that, muggle?" Lucius grinned. "You failed. Your wife failed. The whole order failed in
hiding her from us. Just like all the mudbloods, she'll be raised in a household of our choosing, and
when she's old enough, she'll go to the Trials and do her duty in a pureblood bed, producing the
next generation of wizards. And the best part… by that point, she'll hardly even remember you."

Her father lunged, but he was too weak and only folded forward, giving a shuddering cry.

"Can I have her, father?" Draco asked. Hermione glanced up to see the little blond boy looking at
her in fascination. Hermione snarled, but it only made him smile.

"She seems a little feral," another monster said. "She'd require a lot of training."

"They all do." Lucius stared at the girl in contemplation. "It takes a few years to house train them.
It's better to take them young like this, separate them from their muggle families. There will be less
fight in them later."

"I'll take her, Lucius," Nott said, with his mask still in place. "Theo is… well, he's struggling. I
believe a companion will help him."

"If you raise her with Theo, they are less likely to want to breed when it comes time," Lucius
warned.

"Theo's the second son, so he won't need a breeder, but he's… he's not wanting to eat or go outside.
A pet might give him responsibility, something to take care of."

"You'll still need to enter her in the Trials when she comes of age. If Theo bonds with the girl, it
might upset him to give her up to another wizard."

"Of course. I'll deal with Theo when the time comes."

"But I want her, father," the blond boy said, pouting. "You promised me a pet, and we haven't
found very many mudbloods. It's not fair for Theo to get one before me."

"No," Lucius said, looking her over with a critical eye. "Goyle is right. She's a powerful little thing,
and there's not very many your age. I won't risk you bonding to her in a platonic way. You may just
get her one day, Draco, but it will not be today. Now, take her, Nott, while I dispose of her
worthless sire."
Hermione struggled as the man in the black mask came forward, yanking her off her father. She
threw little sparks of energy, but they missed their mark each time.

"Stop it. I'm not going to hurt you," Nott said, but Hermione howled in terror and thrashed, hitting
him a few times. He cursed under his breath, but managed to pull her tight to his chest, whispering
soothing words as he began to walk out of the clearing.

"Daddy!" she screamed. Lucius placed his stick under her father's chin again. Nott tried to press her
face to his chest, but she kept popping up to look over his shoulder.

"Resist them, Hermione! Always remember who you are. Don't give—”

A red light hit her father’s neck, and blood splattered everywhere. Draco made a disgusted noise.

An inhuman cry was wrenched from Hermione - and then she went limp. Everything fractured
inside her soul at once.

"Bloody hell," Nott said. "Did you have to use such a primitive spell? At least, you could have
waited until we left. Now my pet will be traumatized."

"He should have stopped talking." Lucius wiped a splash of blood on his hand against his robes.
She was unable to take her eyes off her father's body. "And it was what he deserved, taking my
wife from me. He's lucky I didn't draw it out longer. Your pet is young. She'll probably forget all
about this. Or you could just obliviate her."

"No, it's too risky when they're young. It might scramble her brain." Nott brushed a hand along her
hair, smoothing it down.

"What do we need her brain for?"

Nott's eyes crinkled into fury.

"I hate muggleborns as much as you do, Malfoy, but right now they are the only thing keeping us
from dying out, whether we like it or not. What's the point of cruelty?"

Lucius considered what he said, looking at Hermione, who was shivering in shock. Her father's
blood still stained his hands.

"As much as it still disgusts me, you're right." He looked as if the admission pained him. "The girl
you're holding might one day carry the Malfoy heir, especially if she's as powerful as I suspect. My
son deserves a future breeder in good condition, mentally and physically. I want her pampered and
treated as such."

"What you want doesn't matter." There was a hard note to Nott's voice. "She's my ward now. Your
concern is misplaced. I plan for her to be Theo's companion, not to abuse her and lock her in a
broom closet. She'll be given everything she wants or needs and will be taught her value in our
society."

Lucius examined Hermione, as if to judge her worth and searching for flaws.

"Very well."

Nott's hand once again brushed down her hair.

"Come on, kid. Let's get you home."

Hermione clutched the monster, whimpering into his dark robes as they walked out of the clearing.

Right before they disappeared, Hermione gave one last look at her father, lying in a pool of blood.
She tore her eyes away, and accidently met the gaze of the little boy standing next to his angel-
monster father. He held her stuffed bunny, Hopper, and returned her stare as they walked away,
grey eyes piercing through the darkness.
 Nott Manor
Chapter Notes

Song Suggestion: Taylor Swift- Safe and Sound (ft. The Civil Wars)

Edited by the lovely MyPrivateInsanity

A/N: It begins! Thanks for your patience while I finished Brand New World. I'm
excited to start a new story.

A/N 2: This will be an HEA for Dramione. But it won't be for every character.

A/N 3: For those that like the platform, House Pet is also on ff.net under the same
penname of NinaBinaBallerina. The update schedule will be the same.

When they walked past the clearing, the monster took a broom from his pocket, expanding it on
contact. He attempted to peel Hermione off him, but she refused to budge, shivering with terror.

"You need to let go and get on the broom."

"No." Her whole world had cracked under her feet, and if she let go, she might be swallowed by
something more terrifying than the monster.

"Fine," he said. "I think I could still fly like this. Hold on."

Without warning, he launched into the sky. Hermione screamed against his cloak until her throat
hurt. When she quieted, she heard Nott making a deep shushing noise, trying to calm her, and it
made his chest rumble. She focused on the sound instead of the fact they dangled over the Earth.

They flew for a long way. Her brain forgot most of the trip, besides the chilly air lashing against
her skin. To protect her from the wind, Nott wrapped her tighter in his cloak, which smelled nice,
like fire and cinnamon. It should have comforted her, but her shock wouldn't let her settle.
Hermione closed her eyes, unable to look around, fearful of both the monster and the flight.

"I won't drop you," he said, but Hermione didn't trust him.

"Only birds should fly."

His chest gave a sudden spasm, and she thought he might have laughed. Hermione just held tighter,
struggling to get lost in the black cloak—the infinite dark.

When they landed in a city, he walked inside a building with her still clinging to him. She must be
getting heavy, but he didn't complain or attempt to rip her off again.

The men and women sitting at desks startled backward at his entrance, looking at his mask as if it
would jump off his face and eat them. One woman in a red dress gave a high-pitched scream,
crouching down with her hands raised.

"We didn't do anything," a man with heavy eyebrows pleaded. "Please, have mercy. Don't kill us. I
swear on my life we—"

"I'm just here for the floo. They did build one here, correct?"

"Y—yes." The man's voice shook. The lady in the red dress crawled under her desk as the monster
turned toward the speaker. "Right this way."

The man led them toward a fireplace, looking as if he might be ill at any minute. The monster
grabbed a handful of powder from a jar on the mantel and threw it into the ashes. "Ministry of
Magic," he said. He walked into the fireplace and then stepped out somewhere new. It happened
too fast for Hermione to react.

The place they entered was crawling with people in odd clothing. Many of them stopped walking
and stared at her as they passed. Hermione assumed they stared at her dirty appearance. Mud still
covered her, drying hard to her skin, and leaves were tangled in her hair.

The monster walked through hallways, ignoring everyone, until he entered a spacious office. An
old man sat at a desk with a plaque in front of him that read Chief Warlock right next to another
that said Walter Filibus. He scratched at a parchment with a feather and glanced up through reading
glasses.

"Titus," he greeted. "Is this the muggleborn I've been hearing about?"

"Yes."

"This tiny thing killed Fenrir?"

"She did."

The old man made a funny noise, between a cough and a laugh.

"She did the wizarding world a favor." He studied her, as if she was an animal in a zoo. "That was
an impressive feat for her age, even compared to the pureblood children. I'm sure Lucius and the
others are already scheming to get their sons' tokens in as soon as possible."

The old man threw a kind smile toward her, but Hermione kept her frown.

"Well, sit down, son, so we can finish."

"She… won't let go. Her retrieval has left her in a state of shock."

Walter paused to search in his desk and pulled out a piece of blue candy she'd never seen,
reminding her of a feather

"Here, little one. You don't need to be frightened. No one will hurt you."

That she didn't believe at all.

The candy looked delicious and strange, but Hermione just buried her face into the cloak, refusing
it. She feared the monster, but she'd rather be close to him than the other strangers.

"Alright, I can see she needs to get home," Walter said. "If you sign, I'll finish the legal papers for
her. Are you sure you want the responsibility? I understand your live-in nanny will take care of her
while you attend Hogwarts, but you'll need to be her guardian as she ages. Many of the
muggleborns are… unruly."
Titus sighed, as if unsure.

"The current muggleborns of age for the Trials are too old to assimilate to their new lives. I think
this one will settle fine." He gave a soft pat to her shoulders. "And Theo could use a pet, especially
since I'm gone so much."

The old man nodded .

"Your nanny will need to take her for a check-up at St. Mungo's within the month to make sure
she's healthy. Muggles carry all sorts of diseases."

"I'll tell her."

Walter handed him some parchments; Titus leaned over as much as he could, took a feather, and
began to scratch on it, signing his name.

"I need permission to apparate to the manor."

"You don't have a license yet?"

"Not until next year. Since the Order sent the explosive through the floo at Malfoy Manor, ours
has been deactivated. I'm hesitant about reactivating it until I know the threat is over, and
Hermione didn't handle broom travel well."

"Do you know how to do it without splinching, especially with another person?"

"Of course. My father taught me long ago. I've practiced several times on our property."

"I'll allow it this once." Walter leaned back in his chair with his hands folded across his stomach,
examining Titus. "Your parents would be proud at how well you've managed after their deaths. I'm
told your marks in school are excellent. Top of your class, Quidditch Captain, and slated to be
Head Boy next year. And you've already secured an internship in the auror department after you
graduate. I'm expecting great things from you."

Titus sucked in a breath. He nodded slightly at the man and then walked out, his chest stiffer than
it had been before.

He didn't seem to like talking about his parents.

They popped from existence—an unpleasant sensation—and arrived in front of a giant, imposing
house made of dark grey stone. Around the building, mythical marble creatures stood guard inside
a labyrinth of gardens. Since they left the ministry, Nott kept petting her hair, smoothing it down in
long strokes meant to comfort, but Hermione didn't think she'd ever be happy again.

They walked into the house just as it began to drizzle, droplets of water striking their skin. It
reminded her of tears. The sky cried, but Hermione couldn't. Something broke deep inside her
chest.

The inside of the manor had dark, heavy curtains, forest green wallpaper, and diamond patterned
marble floors. Accents of gold gleamed in the dim light, and a giant chandler hovered over them
with teardrop crystals and floating candles. Everything looked both outdated and delicate, like a
museum. Hermione wondered if the house was haunted when a suit of armor creaked, twisting its
metal head toward her. The portraits whispered to each other; one even gave a small wave which
she didn't return. Even the tapestries moved—giant trolls swinging their clubs across the weft
threads as she walked by. If she had ever imagined a home for a monster, it would be this one.

An old lady met them in the foyer, her white hair pulled back in a low bun and an apron tied
around her waist. When she saw Nott, she placed a hand on her chest.

"Oh my, Titus, who are you holding?"

"A little muggleborn named Hermione."

The old lady gasped and walked forward.

"Oh, you poor dear… you poor, poor dear." Hermione transferred into the old woman's arms, much
stronger than they first appeared. She set her on her wobbly feet, keeping her pressed close to her
apron. "You should be ashamed of yourself. I didn't help raise you to participate in this sick system
they've set up. Your mother would be ashamed as well. I thought you swore you'd never get a
muggleborn, finding it distasteful."

Titus pulled off his black mask to reveal a handsome teenager with dark hair that curled at the ends
and blue eyes that glowed in the dimmed light. Titus looked at her and grimaced, color flooding his
cheeks.

"I'm not in the mood, Tabitha. It's been a very long, tiring day. If I hadn't taken her, she'd have gone
to Malfoy, and he hates her kind more than I do. And Merlin forbid if Rabastan had taken her. I
just… I thought Theo needed a companion. He's been so withdrawn since... And besides, it hardly
matters what I think. We need them, or we'll die out. My objection to it doesn't stop the necessity.
At least here, she'll be safe."

"Where did you find her?" The woman's arms were thick and warm, enveloping her in comfort,
smelling like baked bread and powdered sugar.

Titus hesitated.

"Her father was part of the Order and planned the Beltane Massacres. We caught them both on the
hunt."

Tabitha let out another little gasp, holding her tighter. Hermione remembered now her father was
responsible for the death of Nott's parents. Despite her grief, Hermione felt some odd bit of pity.
The circular pain confused her.

"She's dirty from head to toe. Did you find her in a field?"

"Her father covered her in mud to hide her from Fenrir, but… well, Lucius took his revenge, and
she saw all of it."

At that, Hermione buried her face into Tabitha's arm. She wanted to cry, but couldn't. Her body
refused to grieve.

"You're safe now," Tabitha whispered.

By the time she looked back up, Titus had disappeared. Tabitha brought her upstairs and began
washing Hermione in a clawfoot tub, scrubbing her until her skin turned pink. When her hair was
brushed, a little grey creature popped into the bathroom. Hermione almost screamed, but Tabitha
gave her another soothing hug, and she calmed down.

"It's only a house elf. She won't do you any harm. Now, here, dress in these." She held up some
boy's clothes. "They are Theo's, but you look like you wear similar sizes. They will be sufficient
until we can buy you a new wardrobe."

Now clean and with warm clothes, her body reached the peak of exhaustion, and when Tabitha
brought her into another hug, she fell asleep.

She didn't remember the next few days. A dark ghost haunted her mind, and it resisted the
sunshine, tugging her under again and again. She didn't eat or sleep, simply rested in bed, staring at
the ceiling. She flinched when anyone entered the room, though she started to like the little elf,
Bitty. After the initial fright, Hermione found it cute with its big, floppy ears.

One day, Titus and Tabitha entered her room. Hermione kept her eyes on the opposite wall.

"Did she eat today?" Titus asked.

"Barely."

"Fucking Lucius—"

"Language, Titus!"

Titus gave a loud, long sigh.

"I just don't know what to do. Both of them are like this now, and I have to leave soon. The
headmaster only gave me a week."

"Of course, you don't know what to do. You've always been smart and responsible, but you're only
sixteen. You aren't supposed to know what to do with losing both your parents, leaving you to raise
your little brother and now a sad muggleborn. We're all lost. Give it time to find our way."

Titus sighed.

"Any ideas then? Because at this rate, she'll starve to death."

Tabitha took a moment to work through the situation. Hermione felt eyes on her back.

"Have you thought about putting them together?"

"In the same room?"

"It might give them comfort to have each other."

Titus thought about it.

"Might as well try it. Bitty, go get a temporary bed set up in Theo's room."

The next morning a boy poked her side, and she startled awake. She had a moment of panic
looking at her unfamiliar surroundings before the memories caught up to her. The pain stabbed her,
and she gasped, but she shed no more tears. The terrible emotion went through her, leaving her
insides as stone.

"Who are you?" she asked.

"Me?" The boy looked incredulous at her question. He seemed about her age, with lighter hair than
Titus. His face was skinny and long, and he wore glasses that kept sliding down his nose. "You're
the one in my room. I just woke up and found you here."

His room? She examined her surroundings. The room was spacious, with flags on the walls,
reminding her of the football teams her daddy watched. A picture of a man floating on a broom
near some odd hoops took up the wall opposite the window. She would have been startled when it
moved, but most of the paintings around the home did as well. The room smelled like a boy– a bit
like grass mixed with wet dog, as if the sheets needed washing. She wrinkled her nose in slight
disgust.

"Why am I here?"

The boy shrugged, and then he looked contemplative.

"What happened before you came here?"

Hermione blanched and snuggled under the blankets, pulling them over her head.

"I don't want to talk about it."

"Wait… are you a mudblood?"

Hermione pulled down the covers a little, just enough her head poked out, giving a frown. That's
what they called her, but it never sounded nice, and she didn't like it.

"I think so, but my name is Hermione… and you're Theo. Your brother talked about you."

Theo frowned.

"That's odd. Titus said he'd never get a mudblood."

"My name is Hermione," she said with a little more bite. "Mudblood sounds icky."

His eyes widened, but he seemed to understand. He looked a little upset that she was here.

"Did they take you from your family?"

Hermione glanced out the window, hating the sunshine. She wished she could politely ask the
birds to stop chirping.

"My parents are dead."

Theo froze, and then his expression softened.

"I'm sorry." He sounded sincere. "My parents are dead too. People will try to tell you everything
will be okay, but it's a lie."

Hermione nodded, accepting what he said. They shared a pain no one else understood, except
maybe that Draco boy.

"Hey, let's get something to eat," Theo said, trying to change the subject. "I think we can convince
the elves to give us hot cocoa... if Tabitha's not up. She'll try to stop us from having any fun."

"Is that the old lady?"

"Yeah, she's our half-blood nanny. Been here all my life. I think she might be older than Salazar
himself."

Hot cocoa sounded wonderful, though a part of Hermione hurt so bad she wished to snuggle back
into bed forever. Still, her curiosity won out, and Hermione got up and followed him out of the
room.

They stayed together all day, running around the manor, which was the largest house she'd ever
seen. She forgot all about the monsters in the masks, about her dead parents. Theo taught her how
to slide down the giant banister, and they made daring turns, shrieking with laughter, until Tabitha
caught them and came after Theo with a wooden spoon.

Laughing some more, they dashed outside before she could catch them and spent the rest of the
day in his treehouse. It was much nicer than any she'd ever seen before, with real child-sized
furniture, outfitted to look like the manor—forest green wallpaper, a faux fireplace, and moving
portraits on the walls. To get inside, there was a rope attached to a deep red bucket that pulled her
up with magic. It shocked Hermione, but only for a moment, because in this place, magic happened
everywhere.

She didn't see Titus again, except briefly when he walked out of the house. He looked at her with a
grimace before leaving.

"I don't think he likes me very much," she said.

"He's never liked muggles," Theo admitted. "Especially after… Anyway, he's always gone. He'll be
going back to school tomorrow, so Tabitha will take care of us."

"What happens when he finishes school?"

She worried about living with one of the monsters.

"He'll move back home, but he already has a job at the ministry as an auror after he graduates.
Tabitha thinks he'll move up fast, since he's a prodigy with dueling. Whatever that means."

"Oh," Hermione said. It made her feel better she wouldn't see the monster that much.

That night, they ate dinner at the formal table. The serving dishes crawled around on command,
which Hermione thought was brilliant, even though sometimes the spoons gave her more than she
asked for. Back at home, they didn't have much food. Her mother had once said she had to eat
everything, because people were starving, so the amount of food on the table shocked Hermione,
but it all tasted delicious. Theo and Hermione whispered and giggled, hiding their green beans until
Tabitha glared, and they straightened.

When she looked up, Titus was examining her in a piercing way, and then he gave a small grin, as
if she passed a test, but she was too scared to return the smile.

When bedtime came, Tabitha and the elves helped them get dressed in pajamas and brush their
teeth. She still wore Theo's clothes, but Tabitha insisted she'd get her own soon. When the elves
tucked her into the small bed, and Theo in his giant bed, she felt fine at first. But when the lights
went out, her memories came back and soon everything she had tried to push down all day
overwhelmed her. It hit her with a cold clarity that both her parents were dead, and her whole life
was forever changed. She gasped but still couldn't bring herself to cry.

"Hermione," Theo asked in concern. "Are you alright?"

"No," she answered. "I'm afraid. Do you mind if I… well, if I slept with you?"

She used to sleep in her parents' bed when she woke up afraid, but now she had nowhere to go, and
she'd lost Hopper.

"Of course, you can. My bed is too big anyway."

Hermione crawled up and settled down under his covers. Theo reached out his hand, and she
grabbed it, accepting the comfort. His hand was warm and soft, and it soothed her to touch another
person, even if his sheets smelled like a disgusting boy.

"Thank you," she said. Her chest still hurt, but she did feel safer.

Theo was silent while her pain ebbed away.

"I've always wanted a sister," he whispered. "Titus said you're my pet, but that's just silly. A dog is
a pet, and I want you to be family. Do you want a brother?"

"Yes," she answered. "Very much so."

She didn't need to see Theo to know he smiled.

"Perfect. I can't wait until tomorrow. I need to show you the south pond. Supposedly, there's a
water beast at the bottom, but I've never seen it."

That did sound fun. In anticipation of the morning, she laid her head down and went to sleep, still
holding Theo's hand.

She woke up to voices. One belonged to Titus, the other to Tabitha. They stood in the doorway,
looking at them sleeping, still holding hands. Hermione pretended to be asleep.

"She's good for him," Tabitha said. "I was wrong to lecture you. You made the right choice. Saved
her from a harder fate. And Theo played today for the first time in months."

"I just hope he doesn't get too attached. When she's older, she'll have to leave. I have a feeling I'm
making a mistake."

"Foolish boy. One day you'll realize pain is the price of love, but it's worth paying. Theo needs
something to love, or he'll never heal. You can't protect him from heartbreak." She turned to Titus.
"You need healing as well—something to love—though I know you believe you're just fine. Maybe
you'll grow to care for the girl too."

Titus scoffed and placed his hand on the doorframe, the heavy Nott family ring clicking against the
wood. After a moment, he shook his head and left.
 Loopholes
Chapter Notes

Song Suggestion: The Cinematic Orchestra- “To Build a Home”

A/N: The explanation for tokens/ Trials/ any other world building will be discussed in
various chapters. You will figure it out as she does. Right now, she’s only a child with
a limited understanding of the world. She’s extremely sheltered, and her knowledge of
certain things is repressed. We see the dark undercurrents, but she doesn’t.

The MVP for this chapter is my beta, MyPrivateInsanity!

Hermione was the one who found it—a shimmering hole in the wards.

“What’s that?”

“I don’t know.” Theo crawled over the thickets, getting several scratches in the process. Hermione
pushed some overgrown plants out of the way. The wards had a faint buzzing sound, and as they
got closer, it grew louder. Every December, Theo and Titus put a drop of blood at each of the four
corners of the property to fortify the old spells, which had held strong for six hundred years. But all
magic had loopholes, or so Tabitha told her once.

“I knew there must be some small rip, but I never thought I’d find it.” Theo reached forward and
ran his hand through the shimmer. “Wicked,” he said. “We could pass right on through if we
wanted.”

The Nott grounds were massive. Hermione always unearthed some new corner to explore—old
statues standing near small ponds, berries growing near a creek, gnarled trees with thick lower
branches perfect for climbing. They spent most of their time outdoors, pretending to sword fight
like muggles or battling imaginary dragons, so it stood to reason they’d discover the ward hole
eventually.

“Let’s see where it goes,” Hermione said. “Maybe it will take us to the Fae lands.”

Theo shook his head.

“We’d get in so much trouble if we left the grounds without permission. We could get lost or
hurt… or the Order could come and snatch us away.”

“Maybe tomorrow we could,” she said. “We’d just hop out and hop in.”

Theo seemed conflicted.

“Maybe,” he said. “But Titus comes back from Hogwarts today for the summer. He wouldn’t like
it if I put you in danger. Sorry, Hermione, I don’t think we can.”

Disappointment arrived first. She hated leaving things unexplored. The shimmering hole called to
her curiosity. In fact, she thought she saw another ward hole three trees over, but since Theo was
ungrateful about her first find, she didn’t wish to show him her second.
The fear arrived as they walked back to the manor. Titus was returning — the monster in the dark
robe and black mask. He’d been home for Christmas and Easter, and both times they avoided each
other. Hermione shied away from his piercing gaze, either staying in the library or outside to
escape him, and Titus never searched her out.

A whole summer with him being home sounded horrible, and she felt sick to her stomach.

Hermione hid out in her room the rest of the day, complaining of feeling ill. She didn’t lie. Her
heart flipped and squeezed with her growing anxiety.

She heard voices in the afternoon: Titus’ deep laugh, Theo’s high-pitched complaint, Tabitha’s
chiding. A part of her wished to be out with them, but she couldn’t make herself move from the
bed. The elves brought dinner to her room, but she couldn’t eat it, only managing to drink the
pumpkin juice.

The idea occurred to her in the middle of the night. The thoughts of Titus made the memories of
her parents hurtle back to her in a complicated, confusing rush. She understood enough to know her
father wasn’t sleeping and would never come back. But her mother – maybe Lucius lied. Her mum
must miss her terribly.

With that thought, Hermione got out of bed and grabbed a bag, stuffing it with some clothes. She
put on her dragon hide hiking boots. After some consideration, she took two dinner rolls and
wrapped them in a shirt, stuffing them down into the bag.

Once done, she walked out of the room, throwing the bag over her shoulder. She avoided the elves,
knowing their routines. When she passed by Theo’s room, she briefly reconsidered her plan,
blinking back tears while staring at his closed door. Hermione would miss him with her whole
heart, Tabitha too, but she needed to find her mum.

No one stopped her as she walked out of the house and trundled through the brambles and thorns.
At night, the countryside turned sinister. The bushes transformed into monsters, the trees into giant
demons. Noises made her peer into the dark, but she kept on walking, heart hammering, until she
found the shimmering hole. The thicket of shrubbery almost caught her with its thorns, but she
deftly climbed over it.

Hermione took a deep breath and passed through the shimmer. She expected to feel something, but
when she looked back there was nothing to indicate a barrier of any sort.

Seeing nothing but countryside in every direction, she hesitated, wondering which way to go.
Forward , she thought. Hermione marched along until she became tired and crouched down next to
a flowing creek, taking a deep drink of water. She took out the rolls and chewed on them.

After she finished, Hermione climbed a nearby tree to the furthest branch she could reach. What
she found made her stomach sink – absolutely nothing. She was all alone. It almost made her
despair, but she kept going with her plan, climbing back down.

Further into the hike, Hermione found some berries she recognized tangled under a giant tree,
illuminated by the moonlight. She popped several in her mouth, sucking the liquid out, enjoying
the flavor bursting on her tongue. But after eating, she could no longer ignore her fear. She sat
down, curling her feet under her, knowing she was too little for this trip. She’d never find home,
having no idea where to even go. Maybe she’d be lost forever.

Before she could start crying, she heard a snap of branches. Hermione was startled and turned to
find Titus walking slowly toward her. She froze, the fear racing through her again, but when he got
closer, he crouched down.

“I know you’re scared of me, but I’m not going to hurt you.”

“Am I in trouble?”

He pinched the bridge of his nose, sighing.

“I’m not your parent, Hermione. I must look like an adult to you, but I’m still a kid myself… just
older.” He hesitated and reached into the bag by his side, extracting a purple box and holding it out
to her. “I got this for you on the train ride. I thought you might like it. You haven’t tried wizarding
candy yet.”

Hermione eyed the box with trepidation, but eventually she reached out and accepted it. Walter
Filbus had offered her a blue feather candy the first terrible night, but she’d refused it. Since then,
she’d wondered what it would have tasted like.

“What is it?” She examined the box, flipping it over.

“A chocolate frog,” he said. “Go ahead, open it.”

She did as he asked and almost squealed when it hopped right out of the package. She caught the
frog, shoving it to her mouth, and then laughed, surprising even herself. Titus watched her with a
soft smile. It relaxed his face and turned him from a monster into… something else. Not a parent.
Not a brother. Not a friend. He was a new category of person in her life she had trouble labeling.

Hermione smiled at him.

“Thank you,” she said. “How did you know I was out here?”

“I saw you walk out of the manor, so I followed, curious to see where you were going. It looked
like you were on an important mission with your bag, marching along. Imagine my surprise when
you slipped right through the wards without detection. Not only did you manage the impossible,
but you navigated all the way here, feeding yourself, getting water. You reminded me of a fairy
sprite, wandering in the dark, tenacious and clever.”

Pride filled Hermione. Something about Titus made a person want to gain his approval, his
attention, his acceptance. He still scared her a little, but she found herself able to relax. Noticing her
loose posture, Titus came over and sat next to her. He brought out his own chocolate frog to eat.

“You followed me the whole way?” She asked, sucking the lingering sweetness off her fingers.

“The whole way,” he confirmed.

“Why didn’t you try to stop me?”

He paused, taking a bite of chocolate, and glanced into the treetops up toward the multitude of
stars.

“I think you needed to wander a little. We all do sometimes.” He looked down at her. “But we need
to go home eventually.”

They sat in silence, listening to the comforting sound of wind rustling leaves. Something choked
her a little, and she needed to get it out.

“I wanted to find my mum,” she admitted. “My old home.”

“I thought that might be the case.” He sighed and closed his eyes. “Do you want to know an adult
lesson? I think I learned it earlier than I should have.”

Hermione bit her lip but nodded.

“Sometimes, after a long time away, we find our home has changed. It’s turned into something
else, and it will never go back to what it was before. Even if it looks the same, the journey changes
us, and the home we once belonged to makes us feel like trespassers.” He paused, as if trying to
determine what he wished to say next. “When my parents died, my whole world shifted, and my
home felt foreign. And then you came. It was… an adjustment. I wasn’t sure of it before, but we
all fit together now. There’s no going back, Hermione. Your home is now with me, Theo, and
Tabitha. Do you understand what I’m telling you?”

She understood enough. She may find home, but it wouldn’t be the same home she ran from. Not
with her mummy and daddy gone. Because her mum was dead too. She knew it in her bones.
Hermione trembled, though it didn’t gut her with grief like it used to. Titus reached out and patted
her back.

“Come on, let’s go back. I have a whole bag of candy for you to try.”

Hermione perked up a little.

“Really?”

When Titus smiled, his whole face lit, displaying matching dimples and sparkling eyes. It made
her feel oddly safe, though she wasn’t sure if she trusted it yet. They both stood up at the same
time, brushing off dirt and leaves.

“You need to try the jellybeans. One time I got a vomit flavored one, but most of them are
delicious. The surprise is what makes them fun.”

Hermione hesitated but let him lead her back to the manor.

Three years later, Hermione stood in Diagon Alley, waiting for Theo to exit the quidditch shop.
She’d never been anywhere but the manor, so her eyes stayed wide, as she took in all the sights and
smells. The number of people almost overwhelmed her.

“Why haven’t you brought me here before?” Hermione twirled on the cobblestone street with her
arms out and her face turned to the overcast sky. “It’s wonderful!”

Titus ran a hand through his short hair, curling at the ends, dark blue eyes glancing around in a
state of alert. He had his wand drawn. Many of the young witches stared at him, though he didn’t
seem to look back at them, too focused on some invisible threat. He was a rising star in the auror
department, unusual for a wizard so young. Even if he had been average looking and unemployed,
he was still the heir to the Nott name and fortune. It made him an attractive prospect for a partner.
Or, at least, that’s what Tabitha told her.
Many of the missions he went on involved high-ranking officials. If he kept it up, he was set to
achieve the title of Mediator within ten years. She wasn’t sure what he did exactly, except he dealt
with the muggle government and stopped rebellions and terrorist attacks. It made her feel proud to
stand beside him, belonging to his household.

Another girl giggled when she walked past, glancing at Titus, and Hermione felt the desire to glare
at her.

“It’s not safe,” he finally answered her question. “The Order is still active, and there are some
desperate wizards who might also steal a muggleborn. But you deserve to see Diagon Alley, so I’m
willing to risk it.”

The Order scared her. Both Titus and Theo explained how evil they were. They forced her father to
work for them, which resulted in his death. It made sense. Why else would her father attack
peaceful wizards? They had no choice but to kill him. Her tutor told her the Order’s mission was to
steal muggleborns from their pureblood homes. Sometimes she had nightmares about them ripping
her away from Nott manor, and sometimes she had nightmares about her father, but those were
beginning to get fuzzy in her head. During the day, she tried not to think too much about either.

“Why would another wizard steal me?”

Titus’ eyes slid to her and he frowned.

“Didn’t your tutor explain it yet?”

“A little,” Hermione said. “Just that wizards need muggleborns because Dumbledore cursed the
purebloods before he died. He said I was very important and rare, and I’m providing an invaluable
service to the wizarding community. But when I asked what service I’ll provide, he said that was a
question to ask you.”

Titus blew out a hard breath.

“I’ll tell you when you’re older.”

She didn’t like that.

“Why can’t I know now?”

His cheeks turned red, but she didn’t understand what there was to be embarrassed about.

“Because you can’t.”

“I’m not a little kid anymore. Wait… does it have to do with babies? Theo said muggleborns have
babies, though I’m not sure why that matters.”

“What do you know about having babies?”

“Not much. Theo said a witch and a wizard get naked and hug—”

Hermione’s next words died in her mouth. Now it was Hermione’s turn to feel embarrassed.
Somehow, she knew it wasn’t a subject to be talked about in public. Titus didn’t look comfortable
either, shifting his feet.

“Theo needs to quit talking about things he doesn’t understand. Do you ever stop asking
questions?”
She shook her head, and his lip jumped in a small smirk.

“No, I want to know everything.”

It looked like he might respond to that, but Theo ran out of the quidditch shop, holding new top-of-
the-line quidditch leathers. He jumped in excitement.

“I found some in your size, Hermione!”

Hermione wrinkled her nose.

“No thanks.”

She hated quidditch, and she hated flying, but that didn’t stop Theo from trying to make her like it.

Titus gave a loud laugh, showing off his dimples in a wide smile. Hermione’s cheeks felt hot at the
sight, and she wondered why it made her stomach feel twisted. It was the same response as
embarrassment, but warmer, more exciting, and crossed her body in a rush.

“You have about as much chance of getting Hermione on a broom as you do beating me in a duel.”

Theo stuck out his tongue at his brother, and Titus tried to pull it.

“Where to next, baby brother?”

“Hey… I’m not a baby!” Theo yelled. “I’m almost ten years old.”

“A bookstore!” Hermione shouted, trying to stop the sibling fight before it escalated. Titus tended
to be merciless in his teasing. “Please, let’s go and buy books next. Please, please, please.”

She jumped up and down with her hands clasped together.

Titus rolled his eyes but gave her an endearing smile.

“I don’t think it’s possible for me to say no to you, especially when you look at me with those
puppy eyes. Honestly, it’s unfair. I should punish you more before you’re spoiled beyond repair.”

It was a joke, because he never punished her, letting her do what she wished. She snuck in on
Theo’s schooling, until eventually Titus let her stay.

“The other wizards won’t like how educated she is,” Tabitha had warned, not knowing she stood
behind the door.

Titus had only shrugged.

“It helps Theo pay attention to his lessons with her there. Besides, I don’t think I could keep her
from it even if I tried. She’s too smart for her own good. Might as well oversee the education.
What could it hurt? It only raises the standards for her future. The wizard that gets her will have to
be worthy of her, intelligent and clever.”

Tabitha only eyed him with a half-hidden smile.

“I think Theo won’t be the only one reluctant to give her up when the time comes.”

He frowned at that.
“It’s my duty to find her a good match. I’m not accepting tokens from incompetent wizards.
Hermione will have the best.”

“Duty… of course.” Tabitha let her eyebrow raise.

“Fine,” he conceded. “I care for the girl. Not sure how that happened, but she’s not like the other
muggles. Maybe I got her out before they could corrupt her.”

After hearing that, Hermione was glad Titus took her when he did. Imagine if she grew up as a
muggle! Just the thought made her want to shiver in disgust. The next chance she got she hugged
Titus. Physical affection didn’t happen often between them, but she’d been so overwhelmed with
love for Theo, Tabitha, Titus, and even the little elves, she couldn’t stop herself. Her arms cinched
around his stomach. He stiffened, but then ruffled her hair.

“What’s this for?”

“I’m just happy I’m here.”

“Well–” It sounded like something caught in his throat. “I’m happy you’re here too. Now go find
Theo. I just know he’s trying to sneak out of his spelling lessons.”

On their way to the bookstore, they passed Ollivander’s wand shop and got distracted. Theo
pressed his nose to the glass, and Hermione copied him.

“I can’t wait to get one next year,” Theo said.

Hermione frowned. An ugly emotion tangled inside her. It surprised her with the intensity.

“Can I have one too?” she asked Titus, already knowing he’d say no.

Muggleborns used a ministry-approved wand that blunted spells. Hermione didn’t want to be
limited to cleaning spells or a simple Lumos. Last year, during history lessons, the tutor showed her
and Theo a memory of Voldemort and Dumbledore’s duel. The bright colors snapping around, the
power electrifying even through the memory—it made something inside her sizzle. The magic in
her chest responded to the image, curling out to her fingers, just begging to be released.

She was never foolish enough to play with magic with anyone watching. Even Titus might be wary
that she could control it a little. It wasn’t normal, she knew this, even among pureblood children. In
her free time, she moved objects a fraction with willpower and could turn on and off lights.
Imagine what she could do with a wand! It felt instinctively wrong to deny her something essential
to being a witch just because she was born to muggle parents, though, she realized, the ministry
must have some reason to deny muggleborns wands.

“Sorry, Sprite, you know you can’t. Not from Ollivander’s.”.

He tugged on her braid when she frowned, unable to hide her disappointment.

“Hey, let’s forget about wands and go get those books you wanted. I’ll buy you three if you stop
looking at me like that… okay, five.”

“And ice cream,” Hermione said.

“You’re a ruthless negotiator, knowing I’ll do anything to cheer you up. Fine, books then ice
cream, but you have to promise not to ask me about wands again.”

She nodded, but she didn’t give a verbal promise, a loophole she hoped he overlooked.

Because she planned to have a real wand one day, with or without his approval.

Young Titus Nott:

 Birthday Surprises
Chapter Notes

Song Suggestion: Lana Del Rey- “Once Upon a Dream” (Maleficent Soundtrack)

A big thank you to Erica for being my Beta and looking over this chapter!

See the end of the chapter for more notes

Two weeks later, Theo had his tenth birthday party. Before the event, Hermione worked on his gift.
As per tradition, the gift couldn’t be something they bought, but something they made. Titus
helped her with the final touches, and then she wrapped it up, anxious for him to open it.

After that, Hermione assisted the elves and Tabitha in getting the manor ready for his friends
coming over, hanging streamers and blowing up balloons. The party decorations looked odd set
against the ancient decor. In a moment of inspiration, she strapped a polka dot party hat on the suit
of armor, much to its consternation. She giggled when it gave an irritated shake of its metal head.

“What friends does Theo have?” Hermione asked, hopping off the step stool. Tabitha was
wrapping the bottom of the banister in ribbons.

“Just you, I think, which is why Titus invited the other pureblood sons. He’s worried he’s not
making enough connections.”

“But Theo told me they’re mean. I don’t want those bullies over.”

“Child, the boy needs more friends than a muggleborn.”

Hermione placed her hands on her hips with a frown.

“Why would he? We’re perfectly happy together.”

Tabitha straightened, handing the rest of the ribbon to Bitty. She wiped a bead of sweat off her
forehead with the edge of her sleeve.

“You two won’t be together forever. One day, you’ll both have your own lives.”

Hermione narrowed her eyes.

“No, I won’t. I want to be with Theo forever .”

“That’s the problem. One day you’ll be a breeder for another pureblood– maybe even one of the
boys arriving today– and he might not be understanding of how close you two are. It just won’t be
appropriate.”

She meant the way they sometimes still slept in the same bed when she had her terrible nightmares.
Hermione didn’t understand what Titus and Tabitha found so wrong with it. He was her brother,
and his presence soothed her. They each had their separate side. Theo’s bed was massive, much too
big for a single person.
“What’s a breeder?”

Tabitha cursed under her breath.

“An honorable position you’ll take on when you’re of age. After that, you’ll no longer be
considered a Nott, but whoever you’re connected with.”

“Like marriage?”

Tabitha looked concerned.

“Now where did you hear that word?”

She shrugged, but Tabitha knew it probably came from Theo.

“No,” her nanny said. “The old wizarding families don’t get married anymore. Not since
Dumbledore’s curse. What would be the point? It would just split their wealth. But it will be close
enough, I suppose, though it’s not guaranteed to be forever. They can send you to another
household if they wish.”

Hermione thought hard, wrinkling her nose, not understanding everything she talked about. She
didn’t want to live in some stupid pureblood boy’s house, not if it meant leaving Theo.

“Then I’ll be Theo’s breeder.”

Tabitha gave a snort of a laugh and shook her head.

“You’ll change your mind about that when you’re older.”

Hermione didn’t understand why she would. She wondered if it was about sex—a naughty word
Theo told her about. When a witch and wizard hugged naked. If so, Tabitha might have a point.
She’d seen Theo naked before, but she didn’t like seeing him that way, and she wouldn’t want to
hug him without clothes. She remembered the way her cheeks heated when thinking about Titus,
the excited tumble of her stomach when he laughed.

“Well, then maybe I’ll be a breeder for Titus.”

Tabitha sighed. She reached out and cradled Hermione’s cheek.

“He’s handsome, isn’t he? I’ve seen the way you look at him sometimes. An innocent puppy crush,
I think. Don’t worry, Titus is oblivious, and I’m not planning on telling him.”

Hermione looked down, too embarrassed to meet her eyes.

Tabitha gave an affectionate pat to her cheek.

“Don’t worry, my girl. It will be a long time before those decisions are made. By then, you’ll have
your eye on someone your own age.”
The party started in the afternoon. The fairy lights brightened in the bushes with the full heat of the
summer warming the air. Flowers bloomed along the labyrinth gardens, enticing people to enter.
Tall tables were stationed around the main hedge maze, and uniformed servants weaved through
the guests with hovering trays of refreshments and Hors d’oeuvres.

Hermione wore her favorite dress–a dark blue tulle embroidered with unicorns in delicate golden
thread that gave a slight glow and pranced along her hemline. Tabitha wove real flowers into her
curly hair and allowed her to wear a sprinkle of shimmer on her eyes and cheeks. It made her feel
like a Fae princess while running through the smaller hedge maze, searching for rogue gnomes.

The purebloods arrived in small waves, including a few with muggleborns like her. Hermione
could barely contain her excitement, bouncing on her toes, because she’d never seen another
muggleborn before. The Goyles had a little girl with dark straight hair a year older than her named
Katie. The Crabbes had a boy named Justin, who they nicknamed Finch. She tried to be nice to him
when he arrived, but he stuck his nose in the air and stayed by his family.

Hermione ignored him in return, attempting not to be hurt and showed Katie her room, letting her
play with her art supplies. Once they got bored of that, she brought her to the treehouse.

“Wow,” Katie said, admiring the view. “My family lives by the sea, so there are no trees big
enough for this. But we get to play in the ocean sometimes– with temperature regulation charms of
course– though not if it’s too rough, because Greg is scared of the waves. Oh wait… don’t tell
anyone that. The other boys tease him sometimes, and it makes me angry.”

Hermione promised to keep silent.

Before they could play longer, a woman called Katie’s name. Her new friend stood up and looked
out the treehouse window, groaning in agitation.

“That’s my mistress. I think she wants me to meet a potential Trial selection.”

“Trial selection?”

The word confused her, but Katie continued, as if she should know.

“Yeah, Marcus Flint is already putting in his token for me, though I don’t like him. Greg wasn’t
too happy about it when he found out.” Katie’s name was called again. “Oh, I have to go before
she gets too mad.”

“Okay.”

Hermione watched Katie go down the bucket rope, holding on tight and jumping off at the end.
She rested her head on her arms against the wooden windowsill, watching her go, feeling a little
lonely, since she promised Titus to let Theo play with the boys his age without getting in the way.
She walked back to the fluffy green couch, expanding to fit her, and collapsed on it, eyes to the
enchanted ceiling, wondering what Katie meant about Trials and tokens. It bothered her that no
matter how hard she searched in the library about the meaning of the Trials, she couldn’t find a
single explanation.

A tug on the rope interrupted her thoughts, and the bucket began to raise. Hermione stood up,
hoping it was Theo coming up.

But it wasn’t Theo. It was another boy with platinum blond hair and striking grey eyes. His skin
was paler than any she’d ever seen, as if he never sat in the sunshine. Something about him tickled
the edges of her memory, almost painful. He climbed out of the bucket and stood, almost taller
than her.

“Goyle’s pet told me you’d be up here.”

“Do I know you?”

“You don’t remember?” He looked disappointed, lips pulled into a pout. “Well, I remember you.
You killed Fenrir. It was the coolest accidental magic I’ve ever seen, and I’ve always wanted to
meet you again.” He held out his hand. “My name is Draco. I want to be friends.”

They stared at each other for a few long seconds before she remembered in a visceral way.

Fenrir–the name made her ill. When she concentrated, she smelled his musky, rotten scent. He had
sharp teeth and wanted to hurt her.

The boy in front of her had stood next to his monster father, pulling off his small mask. Is that the
insect? Blood and terror. A sickening snap of a body hitting a tree. Hopper dangled from his
fingers as he stared at her with scathing pity, her father’s broken body at his feet. The memories
weren’t whole, but even fractured, it was enough for Hermione to recoil and lunge to the opposite
side of the treehouse.

At the frantic escape, the boy tilted his head in confusion, staring at her in an intense, piercing way.

Hermione’s instincts hated this boy instantly. It came from deep inside her injured soul. The
memories of him and the pain of that day mixed in odd ways, giving her a bad feeling. Now over
her surprise, Hermione curled her lips in a silent snarl.

“I don’t want to be your friend. Theo’s my friend, and I don’t need another.”

Draco flinched as if she struck his face. He held his hand out for a moment longer before retracting
it, and his cheeks flushed a dark red. It didn’t look as if he’d ever had anyone say something like
that to him—a rejection. Hermione almost felt sorry for him, but then he gave a terrible scowl.

“You should have been my pet. You’re the best mudblood, and Theo doesn’t deserve you.”

“My name’s Hermione. If you ever want to be my friend, you won’t use the word mudblood or
pet.”

Draco narrowed his eyes at her sharp tone.

“Why not? It’s what you are, isn’t it?”

The magic stirred in her veins with her anger. She felt it prickle along her skin as it traveled down
her arms and into her fingertips.

“Because they are gross words, and I asked you not to use them.”

Draco seemed to think about her request. He didn’t look happy, but he nodded.

“Very well, but what else would I call you?”

“ Hermione ,” she said, exasperated. “Or, at the very least, muggleborn .”

Hermione stuck her nose in the air, just daring him to call her a mudblood again. She’d gotten into
enough fights with Theo to know she could throw a decent punch when needed. Though if she hit
Draco, she might get in a lot of trouble.

“Fine, Hermione .” Draco crossed his arms. “The next time I offer my friendship it would be wise
for you to accept. I’ll ignore it once, since you didn’t know.”

“Why would I ever want to be friends with you?”

He wore a sneer to perfection, as if he created the expression.

“Because one day, you’ll be mine, so you better start being nice.”

“No, I won’t.”

“Yes, you will. Father promised. The best muggleborn will be my Breeder, live in my house, and
be my friend. I already know you’ll be the best, much better than Katie and Julie. There are another
three girls close to our age that I’ve never met, but I don’t need to see them. I know which
muggleborn I want, and I always get what I want.”

Hermione seethed. Accidental magic zipped out, lifting the edges of her hair. She just wanted this
horrid boy to go away and leave her alone.

“Not this time. Theo and Titus will never let you take me.”

“Theo’s a weakling and would never beat me in the Trials. I’m already smarter and a better flyer
than the lot of them.”

“You’re not smarter than me,” Hermione said.

“I doubt that, but I hope you’re smart. Stupid people annoy me, and I need someone to play chess
with that won’t let me win.”

Hermione wrinkled her nose, but what he said appealed to her. She wanted someone to play chess
with too. Theo hated the game, and Titus never had time.

“Well… maybe I could play chess with you someday, if you start being less bossy to me. But I
don’t want to talk about breeders. It’s stupid.”

The rope pulled again, startling her out of her concentrated glare, showing someone else was
coming up. This time when the bucket reached the top Theo peeked over.

“There you are,” he told Hermione, and then his eyes found Draco, widening. “What are you doing
here?”

Draco stood with confidence, pulling his head up and puffing his chest out.

“I was just coming to say hello to Hermione.”

“Whatever for?” Theo jumped into the treehouse, walking next to Hermione, standing a little in
front of her.

“I thought she should know I’m putting in my token as soon as I’m old enough.”

A few emotions passed Theo’s face: shock, anger, then disgust. His fists clenched by his side.

“Don’t talk to her again,” Theo said. “You’re not allowed to be alone with her.”
Draco gave a dark look that showed he could be cruel when he wanted.

“I can do whatever I want.”

“I think my brother will think differently. This isn’t your manor, Draco, and she’s mine.”

Draco stilled, and then he mirrored Theo’s stance.

“For now,” he said. “But you’re making an enemy out of me when we could be good friends, and
that’s a mistake. We’ll soon be in Hogwarts together. I can make your time there terrible. Think
about that.” He gave her a nod. “Goodbye, Hermione .”

Draco climbed in the red bucket and the rope lowered. When he got to the bottom, he stalked
through the overgrown grass back to the party.

“He didn’t touch you, did he?” Theo asked.

“No… but we’ve met before.”

That surprised Theo.

“When?”

“That bad night…” Hermione didn’t need to elaborate. A long time ago, Titus sat him down and
explained everything, including the identity of her father. For an entire day, Hermione thought her
new brother would hate her, but Theo never was one to hold ill will toward someone that was
innocent, especially since her father died too. Most days they pretended she’d lived at the manor
her whole life. “Draco was there. His father was the one who… well, he surprised me up here.
He’s not very nice.”

“No,” Theo said. “But you don’t need to worry about him. Whatever he told you is wrong. Titus
won’t let someone like him get you.”

Hermione nodded, but a weight settled in her. Draco had seemed so sure, and it made her feel like
Theo might be the one who’s wrong.

Hermione and Theo walked back to the party. Everyone was eating outside in the gardens, so they
grabbed a plate and joined them. Hermione sat next to Titus on a low stone bench in front of a
bubbling mermaid fountain. She leaned into his shoulder, picking at her fruit. Titus was the center
of attention. All the witches and wizards listened respectfully to him as they discussed various
grown-up topics, sitting in chairs positioned with their own small tables in front of them that
appeared when needed and disappeared when done.

No one paid attention to her, except a man who walked over and sat down with a tumbler of
whiskey. He had long blond hair, carried a cane, and she recognized him immediately as Draco’s
father, the angel-monster from her nightmares. Just the sight of him made her want to vomit. She
flinched when he examined her with the same hard stare Draco used. After a minute, she got mad at
him for scaring her and glared at him, but he only grinned at her fierce expression, giving her a
subtle wink. She twisted her face into Titus’ shoulder to make him disappear. Eventually, Malfoy’s
father walked away into the gardens, along with most of the others.

“What’s wrong?” Titus asked. He looked her over carefully. “You haven’t eaten much.”

“I’m not hungry.”

“Now I know something isn’t right,” he joked.

Hermione didn’t smile, staring at a strawberry. She worked on picking off the black seeds.
Physical affection between them was rare, so he knew something scared her to be so close.

“Are you going to give me away?” She asked.

He froze against her.

“Who told you that?”

She shrugged.

“Is someone bothering you?” Titus reached into his pocket and took out his wand. “One of the
men?”

“No,” she said, not wanting to ruin the party. “I just… I don’t want to leave you or Theo. I
overheard someone say something.”

She wasn’t exactly lying.

“We all have to leave home at one point,” he said. That wasn’t a lie either, but Hermione could
sense that it wasn’t the whole truth. “Look, I’ll do anything in my power to make you happy.
You'll still be with us for a long time yet.”

That cheered her a little.

“Even if Draco wanted me?” She dared to finally ask him.

Titus snapped his eyes down, forcing her to look at him.

“Did he say something to you?”

“He found me in the treehouse. He remembered me from… before.”

She saw the realization, memories flashing behind his eyes, and then his face darkened into anger,
a look she rarely saw on him.

“Were you alone with him?”

“Not for long.”

“He’s not allowed to talk to you alone. I’ll remind Lucius to keep him leashed. It won’t happen
again.” He nudged her with a shoulder. “Just so you know, no one would dare touch a Nott ward,
even a Malfoy. They can’t hurt you without going through me first, and even Lucius is wary of my
wand. Remember that. You’re safe with me.”
Hermione nodded, though her heart still warned that Titus never really answered her question.

Theo blew out his candles to tempered applause just as the sun dipped below the horizon. Bitty
made the cake– a four-tiered piece of art with tiny edible quidditch flyers zooming around the
piped frosting.

It was so beautiful it almost hurt Hermione to see Tabitha cut into it, but it tasted delicious. She got
a slice that tasted like lemon drops and ate it fast, finding her appetite again.

Like Titus promised, Draco didn’t talk to her anymore. His father must have said something to him,
because he sat back in his chair with a scowl, eyes glued to Hermione.

Hermione ignored him, though she remained aware of the eyes piercing her, and watched Theo
open his mountain of presents. The gifts the families brought were extravagant: a new broom, a
whole quidditch set, and tickets to the next World Cup.

At the end, he picked up her present. He untied the ribbon, letting it fall away and opened the box.

Theo stared at the gift inside and then grinned.

“Thanks Hermione,” he said. “It’s perfect.”

“What is it?” Greg asked.

Theo lifted out the leather necklace that Titus helped her make. On the end was a coin with a hole
she drilled through the top and both their initials stamped in the middle. She found the coin on the
bottom of the North Pond several years before. After cleaning it, she discovered it was a tarnished
Knut four hundred years old! It might be her greatest treasure. Theo understood what it meant, but
Draco didn’t.

“What an ugly trinket,” Draco mocked.

Hermione’s face heated up, and she stared at the ground. He was right in a way. Compared to his
other presents, it was stupid.

“Help me put it on.” Theo handed her the necklace. “Ignore Malfoy. It’s the best present of the
day.”

All the adults had wandered off, so Hermione became brave.

“Don’t worry, Malfoy,” she said with a false smile. “I’ll never make an ugly trinket for you . I only
do that for friends .”

That seemed to do the trick. His eyelids dropped in a glare. He looked once at her, and then moved
his eyes to Theo, and then to the coin on the necklace. Jealous—that was the word she searched for
—he looked jealous. Hermione found she didn’t care if she hurt his feelings anymore.

A boy named Blaise gave a sharp laugh.

“Your pet has a hard bite, Nott.”

“Shut up, Zabini,” Malfoy said. To her astonishment, the boy snapped his lips shut like Draco
asked. “She’s not a pet, but Theo still needs to punish her more. Maybe then she’d be grateful
when a proper wizard pays her attention.”

“I have no need to punish her,” Theo said. “Hermione’s very loyal and obeys my brother and
Tabitha all the time. She just doesn’t like you much.”

Draco glanced around the party with distaste.

“Come on, Blaise. You too, Goyle, this is getting very boring. Let’s find something better to do.”
Malfoy stood up, straightening his robes in a fastidious way.

“But I was having fun.” Greg looked adorably confused. Katie sat next to him, and he had an arm
around her shoulders.

“Shut up, you idiot, let’s go.” Draco gave Hermione a look she found hard to interpret. Maybe a
little hurt. It was obvious he thought today would go differently. “Theo has made his priorities very
clear, and one day he’ll regret it.”

When Malfoy left to find his father, the rest of the boys did too. Greg gave an apologetic nod while
walking by, and Katie waved with a friendly smile. When passing her, Blaise leaned close, so
Malfoy couldn’t hear.

“Looking forward to seeing you bite again, house pet .” He grinned before leaving with the others.
She didn’t like that boy either. Draco was mean with a sneer, but Blaise was mean with a smile,
and somehow that was worse.

When they all left, she turned to find Theo glaring at the empty chairs. He looked a little sad, and it
made Hermione feel bad.

“I’m sorry I ruined your party.”

“You didn’t ruin my party,” he said. “But I’m not sure Hogwarts will be very fun now, especially if
I get sorted into Slytherin.”

They sat in silence.

“I wonder what house I’d have been sorted into.”

Theo paused, and then he grinned.

“Others might say Ravenclaw because you love books, but with how you just talked to Draco
Malfoy, you’re definitely Gryffindor. I don’t know anybody brave enough to do that.” They both
giggled, finding pleasure in the memory of Draco’s indignation. “Though don’t tell Titus that.
We’re a Slytherin household. Being anything else is nearly treasonous.”
 “Now that they’re gone, do you want to play Exploding Snap?” Hermione asked.

“Only if I get to go first. It is my birthday, after all.”

Chapter End Notes

A/N: I really thought hard about how each character would turn out in this alternate
universe. I came to the conclusion that in every single universe Draco would start out
as a spoiled little shit.

A/N 2: I’ll be in Greece for the next 2/3 weeks on vacation. I’m not sure what my wifi
situation will be while I’m there, or if I’ll even have time to post. If I have downtime, I
will, but I can’t promise anything. The next guaranteed update will be July 10th. After
that, I should be back on track for weekly updates without interruptions for a long
time.
 An Ugly Trinket
Chapter Notes

Song Suggestion: Cavetown- "Devil Town"

A/N: Thanks for your patience while I was on vacation. Greece was wonderful. Now
I'm inspired to write a fic with Hermione and Draco in Ancient Greece lol. A lot of
world building questions will be answered in this chapter.

A big thank you to my lovely beta MyPrivateInsanity for looking over this chapter.

A year later, Theo went to Hogwarts. Hermione traveled to King's Cross Station with Titus and
Tabitha, and their nanny wept the whole journey. Hermione didn't cry, but her heart ached. Her
whole body trembled thinking of the separation. Who would she talk to? Who would she play
with? Who would she go to with her nightmares? Titus had started a new position in the DMLE, a
step below Mediator, and she never saw him, even on weekends. He came in, shoveled down food,
and went to bed.

The future loneliness already weighed her down.

"You have to promise to write every day," she demanded as they walked through the station.
Tabitha said it used to be crawling with muggles, bustling with noise and activity. Now it mostly
remained empty, with only a few people milling around with their heads down, leaving the station
quiet.

Theo rolled his eyes.

"I'm not sure I'll write every day, but I promise to write once a week."

Theo pushed his cart through the brick wall, and she followed, stumbling out near a long red and
black train, sleek and beautiful. Steam billowed around as witches and wizards stood next to it on a
platform. She saw a group of young witches laughing in a circle and looked at them with curiosity
and a teensy bit of jealousy. Having not seen Katie since the party, Hermione wished to find a
friend beyond Theo.

She spotted the Malfoys. Father and son stood stiffly, talking to the Crabbe family. Malfoy twisted,
caught her eye, and froze, his face expressionless.

The intensity made her nervous. Hermione pulled at one of her curls. Tabitha had spent a long time
getting her ready, nearly going to war with her hair. The effort paid off. Hermione liked her hair in
its natural state more, but she could admit the defined curls sat nicely on her shoulders.

Ignoring Draco's piercing stare, she turned to Theo.

"I wish I could go with you."

"You would have scored top marks for sure." Theo grinned. "I don't think anyone, even the
Ravenclaws, could be smarter than you."
Theo always knew just what to say to make her feel better. She threw her arms around him in a
tight hug, whimpering a little into his robes– the closest she'd get to crying. Theo patted her back
for comfort.

When she managed to let go, Titus took her spot, placing a heavy hand on his brother's shoulder.

"Slytherin," he said. "Repeat after me. Sly-ther-in. Tell that to the hat if it starts saying something
else."

Theo rolled his eyes.

"Wait…you said Hufflepuff, right?"

Titus laughed and mussed his hair. Theo pulled back, pushing on his brother's arm. That was about
as affectionate as they'd get.

Tabitha took the longest, giving his cheeks a few kisses while blubbering. Theo looked a little
embarrassed but endured it because he loved her so much.

After a few more hugs, Theo walked away and disappeared into the train.

Titus put a hand on Hermione's shoulder, and she realized she still trembled, her insides cold and
fragile as ice.

"It won't be forever," he said, but Hermione didn't believe him. She wanted to race after Theo and
hide in his luggage.

When Hermione looked back to the train, Draco was boarding. He turned to say a final goodbye to
his father, and then he caught her eye again. He tilted his head for a moment, studying her and a
large grin split his face, as if the party never happened, and they were the best of friends like he
wanted.

Out of reflex, she almost returned it.

Titus kept her tutor, so in the mornings she attended lessons as usual, but the afternoons dragged.
She annoyed Tabitha and Bitty often enough the old woman snapped and told Titus that, as her
guardian, he needed to find her a companion. He gave a sheepish expression under the cloud of
Tabitha's rare condemnation, promising he would.

The next day Katie arrived in the morning through the floo. Hermione squealed in delight, and
Katie matched her enthusiasm.

"Why are you here?"

"Titus convinced my master and mistress to let me come to your lessons, and I've never been so
excited! I've been so bored since Greg left I almost considered throwing myself into the sea."

Hermione found it hard to pay attention to her tutor. After studying and lunch, they spent the rest of
the day roaming the grounds. She showed her all the cool hiding spots and how to catch tadpoles
and climb the giant unicorn statue in the middle of the largest garden.

The next day, a girl named Julie arrived with her Mistress. The lady had wild dark curls– maybe
even wilder than her own– and made the hair on the back of her neck stand up. An instinct prickled
in her mind that something dangerous entered her space. Titus once said her name was Bellatrix
Lestrange and warned Hermione never to anger her.

"Here you go, my sweetling," the lady said. "Behave for your professor and have fun with your
new friends. I'm going to miss you."

The lady gave the girl a hug, a kiss on the cheek, and patted her strawberry blond hair before
leaving.

"Hi," Julie said, blushing and twisting her foot on the ground, keeping her dark eyes lowered. "I
haven't met another muggleborn before. Mum doesn't let me go out much."

"Mum?" Katie asked, a little scandalized.

"Yeah," Julie blushed. "I've always called her that. I don't remember my muggle one, but I think
mum is a better one anyway. Dad told me she tried to have a baby for a long time and couldn't,
which is why she's so protective. I was surprised she let me come here. But I told her a month ago
I really wanted friends, so maybe that's why." The girl shrugged, and Hermione did as well. It
didn't matter what she called her mistress. She thought of Theo as a brother, and she knew Katie
thought of Greg as a brother too.

The lesson that day went slower. Julie didn't know how to write or read yet, so the professor
focused on that, leaving Katie and Hermione to study together. In their free time, she showed Julie
the treehouse, but the girl feared heights. And then she showed her the pond, but she squealed
when she saw a bug. Hermione almost gave up finding something her new friend would like when
they passed the instrument room, a place Hermione rarely went. Julie sat down at the piano and
played, fingers gliding effortlessly along the keys. It was so pretty the elves stopped by with hands
to their hearts and tears in their eyes.

At the end, Julie got up, gave a dramatic bow, and they all clapped. The elves kept trying to kiss
her hand in their thanks.

At dinner, Hermione couldn't stop smiling. Titus was there, a rare occurrence, and noticed her good
mood.

"Are you liking your studies?"

Hermione nodded.

"Good," he said, looking pleased at her answer, and took a bite of food. "It required a little
persuading, but I think most of them are deciding it's a good idea. Muggleborns need socialization
or else you could get depressed. And it does nobody any good if you can't read or write or
understand history and simple spells. Of course, I won't allow some subjects, but the basics are
acceptable."

The next day an extra tutor and two new muggleborns arrived. Justin–or Finch–showed up first. He
looked a little lost without his family, and he hung out in the back without talking to anyone. She
used to think him rude, but now she thought he might be shy. Another boy named Dean came too.
He loved the full-sized quidditch pitch Titus had built Theo for his eleventh birthday. His master–a
man named Avery– had already taught him to fly, so in their free time, he showed Katie how to
command a broom. She caught on quickly– a natural– and both of them zoomed around the field
until they had to leave.

"That was the best day of my life!" Katie exclaimed before leaving.

It took three days for Finch to talk to them. In a herbology lesson, the tutor asked if anyone knew
about mandrakes. Finch raised his hand, giving a good explanation of how to take care of one and
how to use them in potions. And then he went on a long rant about several bugs important to
potions as well.

"I love bugs," he said later. "They're a little gross, but so interesting. Don't you think so?"

Now he looked nervous again, as if they would make fun of him.

"Sure, mate," Dean said. "I don't like when they surprise me, but it was cool how much you knew.
You're like a walking nature encyclopedia. Come out to the pond with us later. There's plenty of
gross bugs there."

The days passed this way at the newly dubbed Muggleborn School: studious mornings, fun
afternoons. Dean always thought up new games, and they spent most of the day laughing at Katie's
bad jokes. Julie provided her gentle smile and taught them how to play simple songs on the piano,
though Hermione was tone deaf. Finch could identify any bug, and they caught a few, placing
them in different magical terrariums, charmed to provide the correct environment. The labeled
glass jars rested on a shelf inside the treehouse, along with any artwork they created.

No other children joined their school. Titus said the rest of the purebloods with wards their age
either didn't believe in muggleborn education, or they thought getting them in groups would be bad.
Not for the first time, did Hermione feel grateful to be in the Nott household, where they let her
have unrestricted access to the manor library.

Of course, Hermione also read outside of class. The tutors only taught the basics like Titus
promised, but Hermione wanted more. She practiced the wand movements from spell books with a
stick in her room under the covers. Sometimes the magic sparked even without a real wand. Each
time it happened, it surprised her, and it inspired her to try harder, going over the same spell again
and again and again. And since Titus didn't prohibit any book in the library, she studied both
offensive and defensive spells, charms and hexes, loving the way magic zinged under her skin.

The books she liked the most explained wandless magic. It required pooling the volatile energy to
her hands, siphoning it from the rest of her body and demanded total concentration. The ancient
texts explained that wandless magic was the oldest form of magic and didn't need correct words or
movements–though those things helped. It only needed intention.

So she practiced obsessively while hidden under her covers, using her instincts and intense thirst
for knowledge to wield the magic flowing like lightning in her veins. She'd practice until sweat
dripped down her body, face red, muscles aching. An unending desert stretched inside her soul,
and a glass of water remained just out of reached, taunting her. Hermione decided that if no one
handed her the water, she'd force the liquid up through the cracks of the Earth to use as she pleased.

Christmas arrived within the blink of an eye, returning Theo to her. They had just opened their
presents, and their gifts littered the floor, but instead of enjoying them, they rested side by side on
the bed staring at the ceiling, talking about their semester apart.

He'd already told her all about the sorting ceremony and talking hat. Headmaster Snape terrified
everyone, but Theo liked the other professors. He'd been sorted into Slytherin, of course, to the
great relief of Titus.

"I thought for sure you'd get Hufflepuff," Titus had teased at breakfast. Theo rolled his eyes in
response.
"Really it suggested Gryffindor, but it chose Slytherin in the end."

"Thank Merlin for that. I'm not sure I could have shouldered the embarrassment of having
a Gryffindor brother."

He'd only been teasing, but Theo flinched.

She waited until they were alone to ask the question.

"Did Draco bully you?"

Theo flinched again.

"By the second night, I wished I had insisted on Gryffindor. Don't tell Titus that. He'd only worry
for me."

"I hate him." Hermione wished Draco stood before her so she could punch him right in his smart
mouth.

"He wasn't that bad. Just played pranks and called me names. Nothing I couldn't handle. You've
pranked me worse before. I only got hurt once. Flint and the other older boys stepped in after that.
They don't tolerate fighting other Slytherins, because we need to present a strong front so we can
get enough house points." Theo paused and frowned. "It helps that Titus is my brother. After the
bad incident, Headmaster Snape pulled Draco out of class by the ear to talk to Lucius. Since then,
he's been a bit better. Still, I don't have hope it will last. Draco always manages to get around the
rules."

Again, Hermione wished she had been there to help Theo. For every prank, she would have
responded with a worse one. And she wouldn't have stopped until he begged her on his knees for
mercy.

"Did you make any friends?"

Theo hesitated.

"There's this one Gryffindor named Harry. His father was a blood traitor but somehow got
pardoned after the war, so he doesn't get picked on much. Not like his friend, Ron, whose parents
were also blood traitors. Draco teases him and his siblings mercilessly. There's a million of them,
and they all have red hair."

"Blood traitors! Why are they allowing those types of families in Hogwarts?"

"Well, they're children, I suppose, and they are purebloods. They deserve to make their own
choices. Their mum managed to get pardoned as well after the great war. Their father is in
Azkaban. I feel sorry for the lot of them, because they live in total poverty… though the oldest two
are graduated and supposedly doing great as a curse breaker and dragon tamer."

A curse breaker and a dragon tamer. It sounded so exciting. She imagined herself on a dragon,
telling it what to do, or wrestling with old, cursed objects that wanted to kill her. Muggleborns
couldn't have careers. Not as a curse breaker, or a magical creature liaison, or even a filing clerk.
Older muggleborns worked as in-house nannies or janitors, but not a single muggleborn went
higher, besides as breeders. She shivered with a sudden sinking feeling, as if she just slipped under
the ocean waves into the dark deep.

The best she could hope for was to be a breeder for a pureblood family, though she still wasn't sure
exactly what they did, except it had something to do with babies. No one would tell her, and she
couldn't find much about it in the library.

No, that couldn't be all she did. She'd go mad. Maybe the wizard she lived with would let her do
something, anything besides wander a manor.

She had a secret hope it would be Titus. He'd let her do whatever she wanted, and he'd always treat
her right. Her whole body flushed at the thought, remembering the time Theo showed her the
photographs of people kissing. Since that time, she found it hard not thinking about how it might
feel to kiss Titus.

"So you're friends with Harry?"

"Not officially, but we keep getting paired in Potions, so we naturally had to talk. He's not a bad
bloke, even for a Gryffindor." He turned his head and grinned at her, showing he referenced her as
well.

Hermione wondered what it would be like to attend Hogwarts with the purebloods and half-bloods.
She couldn't stop the overwhelming jealousy that a prat like Malfoy could experience Hogwarts
when she couldn't.

Theo sighed and stood up. He walked over to his school trunk, lifted the heavy lid, and rifled
around for something.

"What are you looking for?" She sat up and pressed her feet to the floor.

"I was asked to give you a Christmas gift." He pulled out a rectangular box with a pretty ribbon on
top.

"Who would give me anything?"

Theo gave her a look, followed by a grimace. She recoiled, knowing instantly who he referenced.
There was only one pureblood trying to win her favor.

"You can tell Malfoy I don't want it. Just put it in the bin with the rest of the rubbish."

Theo frowned.

"Listen, I didn't want to give it to you, but he promised if I did, he'd let up with the pranks for the
rest of the year. It doesn't have any charms or curses, and he said you'd really like it."

Hermione gave a snort, wondering what the spoiled prat thought she liked. He didn't even know
her.

"Alright." Hermione groaned. Theo let out a sigh of relief that told her the bullying had been much
worse than he let on. If it spared Theo pain, she'd take the stupid gift.

Theo walked over and handed it to her. Hermione ripped the ribbon away in an angry tug. On the
top of the box perched a tag labeled An Ugly Trinket in bold black letters with his initials below.
Hermione ignored that and flipped open the lid, intending to hate the gift no matter the rarity or
cost.

But instead her whole world stopped and started, and her head felt woozy. If she'd been standing,
she would have fainted. Inside the box, nestled peacefully in pretty paper, was Hopper, her old
stuffed bunny. Hermione's face tightened in a funny way, eyes hot, and she blinked a few times. No
tears fell, but they threatened to tumble down. For the first time in years, Hermione almost cried.

Theo looked stunned at her reaction.

"What is it?"

Hermione reached down and gently cradled the stuffed animal. It looked exactly like it used to,
except someone cleaned him and fixed his broken eye. She clutched Hopper to her chest and
hugged. A few memories broke through of her parents. They clapped while candles burned on her
cake. Someone turned on a television as she curled up on the couch. Her mother sang a lullaby as
she stroked her hair to get her to sleep. Her father threw her in the air, higher and higher and higher,
catching her every time.

She'd forgotten too much to be homesick, but Hermione grabbed on to the fleeting thoughts, afraid
they'd disappear again.

"Tell Malfoy…" Her voice caught. "Tell Malfoy thank you. He was right for once."

It wasn't until the next day she noticed a letter at the bottom of the box, hidden under the paper.
She waited until she was alone to read it. Muggleborns weren't meant to interact with the pureblood
boys without supervision, even in letter form. He risked getting in bad trouble sending it. For
Hopper, she decided to honor the act by keeping it secret.

It was written on expensive paper, heavy under her fingertips, and it made a lovely sound when she
unfolded it.

Hermione,

Greg said I might have scared you in the treehouse, and I didn't mean to do that. I only
wanted to be friends, and it went wrong somehow.

After you dropped your bunny so long ago, I always wished to give it back to you. If you'd
like, I think we should start introductions again. Would you want to exchange letters? You
couldn't tell anyone.

First question: would you rather be eaten by a hippogriff or a dragon? I've been thinking
about it a lot lately, and I can't decide, though I'm leaning toward a dragon.

Your new friend,

DM

Hermione didn't want to be his friend. Not after how he acted at the party, and especially not after
he bullied Theo for an entire semester. But if she didn't, would he take out his anger on Theo? She
might have to play along for his sake.

Hermione grabbed a quill, ink, and paper. She chewed on her bottom lip in thought before writing.

Dear Spoiled Pureblood,

Thanks for Hopper. That's my bunny's name. I didn't think I'd ever see him again. Even
though I'm still mad at you, I'm grateful you mended him and kept him safe.
I guess it wouldn't hurt to write a few letters, though if I find out you're bullying Theo again,
I'll send you a howler and laugh when Headmaster Snape drags you to your father again by
your ear.

I'd rather get eaten by a hippogriff, of course. They're honourable creatures, so they would
make your death quick. Though maybe they like to savor mean bullies. Which, in your case,
should be something to consider. Burning to death sounds horrid. You should honestly stop
claiming you're intelligent if you choose a dragon.

Thanks again,

An Annoyed Muggleborn

Satisfied, Hemione called over Tabitha's owl, the one least likely to be missed. She gave the owl an
affectionate pat, a treat, the letter, and sent him on his way.

Hermione dreamed of necks splitting, blood pouring out. Of men that looked like angels but only
hurt people. Of beasts with sharp teeth. She'd jolt awake, breathing hard and sweating. Before he
left, she'd grab Theo's hand and hold it tight until she could return to sleep. Without him, she didn't
sleep well. She stayed awake in terror, imaging the shadows as monsters in billowing black capes.

The first night after Theo left again for Hogwarts, Hermione bolted up in bed, clutching her chest.
Her heart pounded hard, and she felt ill with fear. It didn't go away as she sat there, eyes wide. She
wished she could cry. Maybe that would rid her of the terrible feelings.

Her fingers brushed something soft, and she pulled up Hopper from under the covers. As she
hugged him close, her heart calmed, her breathing evened. Just before sleep, she buried her face
into his soft belly. It smelled of something both clean and sharp. She realized it must be how Draco
smelled. With that disturbing thought, she let herself smell it again, finding she liked it more than
she should.

Hermione slept better than she had in a long time.

Titus intercepted Draco's next letter, hidden inside Theo's trunk during Easter break. He waited
until after dinner when she was getting settled into bed to talk to her.

"Give us some privacy, Tabitha," he said. The old woman gave a bow of her head and exited
Hermione's room, along with Bitty.

Titus gave a sigh and sat on a chair near her bed. He stuck his hand in his cloak and came out with
a letter written on expensive paper.

"When did this start?"

Hermione withheld a groan. She'd been looking forward to Draco's reply. Despite not liking the
boy, the conversation rested on some edge over a cavern. She had to be on her toes, and it made it
exciting.

"He only gave me one, and I sent one back. That's all."

"There shouldn't have been any. I'm willing to overlook it on your part, since I'm not sure I've
explained all the rules, but Draco knows he shouldn't be doing this."
"Don't get him too much in trouble. He just wanted to be friends."

Titus kept his hard eyes on her for a moment.

"What do you know of the selection process?"

"Not much. Katie mentioned something about tokens and Trials, but I couldn't find anything in the
library to explain."

The edge of his lips twitched up. He'd always told her he found her research of every topic that
struck her interest endearing.

"No, I don't think you'll find this in any library." He gave a heavy sigh, glancing out the window as
if he wanted to be doing anything besides talking to her about this. "The Trials won't happen until
you're eighteen, or a few years later if I decide otherwise. The latest you can enter is twenty-one.
Wizards will give me a token for the right to compete. There are four trials in all and whoever wins
the most will win that witch. Their tokens aren't infinite either. Each wizard only gets three in
total."

"What happens if they put in all their tokens for different witches and never win?"

"Then their bloodline dies out." Titus crossed his arms on his chest. "They may have love and
companionship in their lifetime, but nothing else. To some, that's a fate worse than death. So the
men, especially the ones from the oldest families, take a great risk for each selection. The witch
must be worth it."

"But why do it at all?"

"Muggleborns are rare. I don't think the wizarding world realized how rare muggleborns were until
after the curse. Since you came to live with us, we've only found twenty muggleborns of various
ages… but there are hundreds of purebloods and half-bloods vying for them. More if you include
the other countries affected. The competitions were created so wizards stay civil. There would be
terror and anarchy otherwise."

Hermione hesitated.

"Has anyone put in tokens for me?"

Titus studied the way she clutched her blanket under her fingers.

"Many have tried, but I'm not accepting any right now." His expression softened. "You're only
twelve, and I'm not going to let just any sorry excuse for a wizard compete for you."

"Does that mean you decide who can put in tokens?"

"Since I'm head of the household, I decide who puts in tokens, and I also decide how many, though
I must accept at least three. That's why you don't need to worry, Sprite. I'm not accepting any
tokens from wizards you don't like. I'm willing to give you an option to decline."

That did make her feel better. Ever since Katie told her about the tokens, she worried over the
meaning.

"You promise?"

He grinned.
"I promise. My standards are ridiculously high. So high no one has met them yet. The ministry will
probably have to force me at wand point to finally start the trials and choose three candidates."

Since Titus was in a rare sharing mood, Hermione dared to ask the next question.

"But what are the Trials for exactly? I don't really understand everything."

He ran his hand down his face and then through his hair, making it stand on end.

"Do you remember when Theo said muggleborns can have babies?" Hermione nodded her head.
"Well, that makes you both rare and a treasure. The wizarding world would die out without you.
That's why wizards are willing to compete for you… to have their baby."

Babies—that's what continuing the bloodline meant.

A funny feeling filled Hermione. A mixture of pride for being so important and something
uncomfortable and sad. She'd known she was to be given away, and she'd guessed the reason long
ago, but to hear it confirmed made her… disappointed.

A few months before, she woke up to pain and bloody sheets. She thought she was dying until she
got Tabitha. The old woman sat her down and explained the bodily function to her. It was a
nuisance more than anything. She did know it meant she could technically have babies now,
though Tabitha had been vague on the details. Since then, she'd made the connection, but Titus
saying it out loud made her uncomfortable.

"What if you kept me? I could have your babies, and then I would never have to leave."

Titus' eyes widened, and he gave a sharp laugh. He rubbed the back of his neck with his hand,
cheeks coloring. She felt hers warm too, embarrassed this was his reaction.

"Do you even know how babies are made?"

She blushed.

"Well… not really."

"Oh, Sprite, one day, I'll have Tabitha explain the details about the process. After that, I doubt
you'd want to have my babies."

There were still things he wasn't telling her, and she didn't like that. She crossed her arms and gave
a severe frown.

"Listen, I'd have to compete for you too. It's against the rules to just keep you. I'd do anything to
make you happy, but I can't let you skip the Trials. It's against the law. Do you understand?"

Hermione gave a little nod of her head, uncrossing her arms.

"Yes."

His stance loosened, as if he'd been worried she'd be more upset.

"Which brings us back to this." He held up the letter. "Draco not only bullies Theo, but he has the
audacity to send you a letter behind my back. He's of age to put in a token for the future, and his
father has tried several times to convince me. There was a moment I considered… Draco's your
age. He's top of his class. And there's very few families that can protect you on the same level as I
can." He grimaced. "But I'm denying him the right to give a token. Maybe one day he can prove
different, but I can't overlook this."

Hermione wasn't sure how to feel about the whole thing. There were still questions she didn't know
about her future, which would probably help her understand enough to be happy or sad.

"I understand," she said.

Titus nodded but he looked hesitant and sighed.

"Theo admitted Draco gave you a gift." He outstretched his hand. "I hate to ask this, but I'm going
to need it back."

Hermione slipped her hand under the cover, brushing the matted fur of Hopper.

"No."

Titus crinkled his brows in surprise, and it surprised her too. She had never told him no like that.

"I'm going to give you a moment to reconsider your answer. This is unlike you."

"It's mine." Hermione brought out the old, ugly bunny. "I dropped it in the mud when Fenrir–
Draco only sent it back. Please don't take it. I don't– I don't have nightmares when I hold it."

Titus froze and then lowered his head, looking ashamed for a reason she couldn't identify.

"I won't take it." He stood up, straightening his robes. After walking to the door, he turned with a
gentle smirk on his face. "By the way, you were right. A hippogriff is a better choice. In this letter,
Malfoy was explaining the virtues of a dragon. I'm sure his response would have only annoyed
you."

Stupid dragons and stupid Draco. The conversation with Titus was meant to soothe her worries, but
it only unsettled her more.
 Reclamation of Magic
Chapter Notes

Song Suggestion: Heilung- "Anoana" The music video has a lot of symbolism that
represents this story, especially with reconnecting to deep roots and old magic.

Muggleborn Boys: It will be explained later, but there were lots of questions, so I'll
answer. Muggleborn boys will provide the same service as the girls, except to families
who only have female heirs (the Greengrass sisters). It's a patriarchal society, and they
don't get married anymore, so this is considered a last resort to continue the family.
The infertility is magical (attached to the bloodlines), not biological, so the pureblood
men are affected by the curse just as much as the women. The only difference is the
boys are not put into the Trials. Instead, they are bought for a substantial sum, since
there is less of a demand for them. The logistics of the curse will be discussed in a
later chapter as well.

Edited by the wonderful MyPrivateInsanity

The summer before Theo's fourth year, Hermione walked out of Florean Fortescue's, licking a giant
scoop of Butterbeer flavoured ice cream, perched precariously on a cone.

Theo walked beside her with his own cone, eating it happily. They found a bench, and Hermione
sat, curling up her legs and enjoying the sunshine.

Hermione tried to keep her smile after finishing the ice cream, but the auror Titus hired to follow
them around dampened the mood. They'd been everywhere they were pre-approved to go, and
Hermione struggled to find things to do.

"I'm bored," she complained.

Theo frowned, but she knew he was too. The mid-summer heat lingered in the air, enticing them
outside, but nothing inside or outside captured their attention.

Hermione got an idea that sent a thrill down her back–something she'd always wanted to do. She
leaned in toward Theo.

"Let's go to Knockturn Alley."

Theo twisted his head hard.

"Are you insane?" he whispered back.

"You can't say you've never been curious. I know you've wanted to go ever since Titus said we
couldn't."

Theo scrunched his eyebrows, and she knew she convinced him.

"Titus will never let us."

"Titus isn't here."

"Yeah, but his guard dog is."

Both of them looked up to see the auror standing nearby. The man tried to act casual, but everyone
who passed understood the danger he posed. Taller than most men, he clasped a wand in his hand,
and a giant scar slashed down his right cheek.

"I don't think it would be too hard to outsmart him," she said.

Theo gave one look back at the auror and then grinned at Hermione.

"What do you have in mind?"

"You can't be alone with me." Hermione walked to a secluded part of the bookstore, dealing with
dry law text. Dust coated the books, showing the lack of interest from the public.

The auror frowned. Theo had gone to the loo a few minutes earlier, leaving just the two of them.

"Then head back the other way."

"No." Hermione gave a spoiled tilt of her chin. "I want to look at these books. It just so
happens you can't be near me on your own without supervision."

"Listen, little girl, your master—"

"I'll scream."

He glowered and looked around, weighing his options.

"Very well," he said. "You have five minutes. Browse fast. After you're done, Titus wants me to
escort both of you home."

That confused Hermione.

"But he told me he'd pick us up?"

"Plans changed. Five minutes."

The moment he disappeared around the corner Hermione headed the other way, slipping along the
bookshelves, keeping her footsteps light. For a moment, the auror turned the wrong way, eyes
scanning the stacks, and Hermione thought she'd get caught, but then he twisted back around. She
took quick steps past him, holding her breath until she exited the bookstore. Theo waited for her
outside with a goofy smile.
"Took you long enough."

"Next time you can escape an auror, and we'll see how long it takes. Quick, let's go before he
figures it out."

After running for a minute, dodging old ladies holding shopping bags, Theo tugged her into an
alcove. They laughed until their stomachs ached.

"I can't believe we just did that," Theo said. "Titus will kill us."

"Titus will never know."

"How will he not? Soon the auror will notice us missing."

"He won't tell Titus. He'd lose his job. Even if the auror finds us, he won't say a word. We'll make
a deal with him."

Theo just stared at her with his head tilted.

"Maybe I was wrong before." He grinned. "This is awfully Slytherin of you, Hermione."

"I've learned from the best."

They took the west entrance to Knockturn Alley. Most people avoided Knockturn Alley in general,
but if they did enter, they went the east way. No one entered the west side because the muggleborn
camps were set up along the outskirts, and most wizards would rather avoid the area. Hermione
would too, but it was the best way to enter without detection.

Theo looked around warily.

"I don't feel so good about this."

"Didn't the hat consider you for Gryffindor? I thought you'd be braver than this."

Theo scowled.

"This is stupid, not brave."

The clean streets of Diagon Alley vanished as they travelled. Trash littered the path, and flickering
graffiti desecrated the old stone walls. Voices lowered to hushed whispers, and the wizards they
passed gave them longer, more predatory looks. Hermione glanced around. Maybe Theo was right,
but she was too far in to back out now.

"I just want to see it, and then we can leave."

Theo gave a huff of exasperation.

"Fine, but let's not stay long."

They crept along the road until it twisted. There was no flashing sign, no clear demarcation, but
they both knew they crossed into Knockturn Alley. They hesitated until someone screamed in one
of the run-down buildings, and then Hermione quickened her pace.

They followed the twisting alley until it opened into a clearing where a building once stood. Jagged
pieces of stone piled on the ground. Shanties made of salvaged building wreckage and ragged
pieces of cloth were pieced together near the back of the clearing.

Hermione paused, mouth open. She'd never seen anything like it. The hard-looking men and
women stood around in torn clothing, dirty and smelling bad even from where she stood. Most
looked older, wrinkles encrusted with dirt. They either sat around or hovered over smoking pots of
stew. Dead animals were strung up on a long line, including a few rats.

There weren't any children to be seen. How could people live like this?

Hermione's stomach twisted. These were the older muggleborns. No wonder purebloods called her
mudblood, if these were the pitiful creatures she came from.

Theo noticed her subdued mood. "Are you alright?"

He noticed what she stared at.

"Oh," he whispered. "I told you this was a bad idea. Let's go. You don't need to see this."

They turned, but something blocked their path. Out of the shadows stepped three men. The first
was dressed in filthy rags, with a lecherous smile on his face, missing two teeth and patches of
hair. The second had on leather clothing with blazing red hair, freckles, and tattoos down his arms.
He didn't leer like the other, but Hermione stepped back from his sheer size.

The third was the auror they ran from. He frowned at them, the scar contorting on his face.

"Is this them?" The redhead asked.

"Yes," the auror said, face still in a grimace. "The girl is clever. I thought I'd never find an opening
to act. And when they escaped, I thought they suspected me. Turns out they just made it easier."

"Suspected you of what?" Theo tensed and grabbed Hermione, shoving her behind him. He pulled
out his wand, but he was clearly no match for three grown wizards.

"I'm sorry," Hermione said. "It was my fault. When we return to Titus, I'll tell him it was my idea.
He knows I—"

Hermione understood she got everything dreadfully wrong. These men weren't planning to bring
her back to Titus at all. A horrible realisation infected her.

"You're The Order," she accused the auror. "Titus never told you to escort us home. You were
going to kidnap me."

"She's a smart one, alright." The one in rags mocked, displaying his rotting teeth.

"Stop scaring them." The redhead turned his attention to Hermione. "We're here to rescue you."

"Rescue me?" Hermione couldn't comprehend what he meant. "What do I need rescuing from?
Please, just leave us alone, and I promise we'll forget all about it. I'm giving you a chance to
escape, because if you take me, Titus will hunt you down and slaughter you all."

The man in dirty rags burst into laughter, and the redhead looked very defeated and sad.

"You see now why they take them young?" The auror looked a little sad too. "They don't even
know they're in a cage. They'll put the collar on themselves, believing their families love them,
until it's too late."
"They do love me!" Hermione clutched Theo's arm tighter. She now wished she had listened to
Titus when he warned her of this situation. She always thought him overprotective, but if she ever
got back, she'd never disobey him again.

"You might think that now," the redhead said. "But to them you're like cattle. You serve a purpose,
but they'll discard you when you're no longer of use." He motioned to the muggleborn camps
behind her. "You can't love a person you treat like a dog."

"Shut up," Theo roared. His glasses fell down his nose, but he didn't dare push them back up.
"You're a liar. "

The auror pointed his wand at Theo.

"Now son, we don't want to harm you. Hurting children is against our code. The best thing to do is
to step aside and let the girl come with us. I'm afraid we'll have to obliviate you as well. Like the
girl said, we can't risk Nott hunting us down, so we'll only erase our faces. We'll even return you to
Diagon Alley, safe and sound for your brother to find."

"No," Theo said. "If you want her, you'll have to kill me first."

The auror sighed.

"Expelliarmus!" Theo cried, but it was easily swatted aside.

"Decent aim for your age, but ineffective. Sorry kid."

A blue light exited his wand, and Theo slammed into a side wall, his head giving a small crack
with the impact and crumpling forward unconscious. His wand flew in the air and clattered at
Hermione's feet.

"Theo!"

Her brother groaned but didn't get up.

She made a noise of terror, both for Theo and for herself, but she had no time to worry because the
auror walked carefully toward her with both hands up.

"Now, now, I know you're scared. You don't need to be. We aren't here to hurt you. Your friend
will be perfectly fine, and you'll be safely out of here in no time."

He thought she'd bolt, but the anger crashed and roared in her chest, and she reached down and
grabbed Theo's wand. When her hand connected to the wood, her whole body froze and then
relaxed. The magic attached like a friend.

Ah, her body cried. At last.

She held it toward the redhead in a natural pose. After watching Titus cast spells for years, she'd
been careful to copy the movements.

The auror paused, but then he gave a grin.

"Your father would be proud," he said, and Hermione tensed with the word. What did he know of
her father? "You're a fighter and smart too. But we both know you have no idea what to do with
that. They've never given you a real wand, and they never will. If you come with us, we'll get you
one and train you to use it. I promise."
The words both taunted and enticed her. The thought of a wand in her hand—her own wand—
would have made her reconsider, if the cost of leaving was less. But it wasn't worth the price of
never seeing her family again.

"I know how to use it," Hermione bluffed. "I've killed before too."

"Yes," the auror nodded. "Fenrir. It's why they want you so badly. It's a horrid curse to them that
they can only reproduce with muggleborns, but it makes it more acceptable if the girl snapped a
werewolf's neck at the age of seven. Imagine the power you could give their children. All the old
families want you. I overhear the discussions daily as the pureblood patriarchs try to entice Titus
into allowing their tokens. I'll admit he's been a hard sell, because only the best connections will
make the cut. They treat it like the old marriages, selling off young girls to form political alliances.
You won't be exempt from this."

"You're lying."

Titus promised she had a choice. She had an important position in society, and her family loved
her. This man made it seem like they only looked at her like an object to be gifted or sold.

"Am I?" The auror frowned. "You know I'm right… you just wish I wasn't. Nott will send you off
to the Trials as soon as you're of age. He'll get a hefty sum from your new handlers for the right to
force you into their bed, whether you want to or not. It's nothing but human trafficking and sexual
slavery. You'll spend your life getting fucked—"

"Garner," the redhead warned. "She's a kid."

"She's old enough to understand the consequences of staying."

"Enough talking. We can explain everything when we get back to the base. She's not going to come
quietly. She's too brainwashed. Just stun her and let's go."

The auror sighed, as if his years weighed on him.

"It doesn't have to be this way." He pointed his wand at her.

She responded instinctively, her body and brain going with the rote motions she practised
repeatedly under the covers, words whispered in the dark.

"Petrificus Totalus."

The magic zipped through her, and the spell hit the surprised wizard. He snapped up, froze, and
like a giant, old tree, crashed into the stone below.

"Bloody hell," the redhead said. He glanced at Hermione in shock.

The filthy wizard just laughed harder like a deranged lunatic.

The redhead drew his wand and pointed it at Hermione just as a giant light hit the sky and widened
into an announcement, showing a big picture of her face with the words MISSING above it. A loud
siren erupted around them, and a voice boomed telling everyone to stay where they were, and that
armed aurors would be in the streets.

Titus knew they were missing, and he was searching! She wondered how long it would take for
him to locate her. By the redhead's expression, he wondered the same thing.
"Fuck," the red-headed wizard cursed. He continued to point his wand at Hermione, but she just
glared and pointed Theo's right back.

"I'm not someone to mess with. If you want me, I won't make it easy. I'll kill again if I have to."

It helped that they had no idea what she was capable of.

"I see that." The wizard hesitated, gave a nod of respect, and started to leave. "One day I hope you
change your mind. I have a feeling we'll meet again."

"Wait," the filthy wizard said. "We're not just going to leave them both, are we?"

The redhead hesitated, glancing down at his partner. He almost leaned down, but then he grimaced
and straightened, as if he resisted all instinct. He looked haunted.

"The mission is more important than our lives. Garner knew this and agreed to the code before
taking the job. I'd expect him to leave me if the roles were reversed. They've already disabled
apparition. We can't carry out an unconscious wizard without risking suspicion. Even if I reverse
the spell, he'll be knocked out cold from that fall, and there's no time to subdue the girl without
hurting her. We'll get her a different time."

"But the money—"

"Fuck the money. Titus is on a warpath now, and he's not a wizard I'd like to duel. You haven't
seen him in action, but I have. He'd rip your guts out and make you wear them as jewellery. Come
on."

The redhead turned around and vanished into the darkness behind him, but the filthy wizard
stayed.

"They promised me a nice, fat bag of galleons if I brought you in, and I'm not going to let a little
girl stop me." He pulled out his gnarled wand. "Now put down the wand, or else I will hurt you."

Terror tangled her veins, understanding the sharp danger in front of her. The other wizards
possessed an honour code, but this one didn't.

"Incarcerous," she yelled, but now that surprise was gone, the wizard deflected it with ease, his
ugly leer punctuated by missing teeth.

"Is that all, precious?"

He threw a nonverbal dark red curse. Hermione managed a weak Protego, but it took a lot of
energy out of her. If that curse had hit her, she'd be in a lot of pain.

Hermione breathed hard, shivering, knowing she was strong enough to beat him, but lacked the
knowledge and practice to protect herself. The wand liked her, but it resisted her a little, since its
allegiance belonged to Theo.

"Come on, mudblood. Drop the wand before you really get hurt."

She pointed her wand at the terrible man, wanting to harm him. The magic built.

"Reducto!"

The wizard attempted to shield it, but it glanced off and hit his finger, exploding the tip off. Flesh
and blood splattered everywhere. The wizard cried out with a howl and cradled his hand to his
chest, giving a violent look to Hermione.

"Little bitch, you'll fucking regret that." He sent an Expelliarmus, and Hermione couldn't stop it.
The wand flew out of her hand, landing near Theo, too far for her to reach.

Like a lightning flash, another red spell hurtled toward her. She jumped out of the way, but it sliced
her side. A deep red bloomed against her white robes. She gave a low scream in pain, grabbing her
wound, attempting to stop the blood. It felt like it hit something important inside her stomach.

"Oh, did that hurt?" he mocked. "Time to go, precious. Before I give you to the Order, we're going
to take a little detour. I'm planning to take the same thing you took from me, but slower. Maybe
we'll have other kinds of fun too. The girls your age always scream the best. Don't worry, I'll patch
you up before leaving you. Good as new." His eyes flicked up and down her body in a way she
didn't understand, but it made her feel like bugs marched along her skin.

He walked forward as if to grab her, and Hermione once again reacted instinctively, remembering
all the times she practised controlling magic with only her will and a stick. Every last ounce of
energy in her body pooled into her hand. There was no set spell, no ancient words, no flick of a
wand. She held out her hand like the pagans of old, ordering her magic with sheer will.

She twisted her hand, and the man's whole body locked up.

"What the fuck are you doing?"

Another flick of her wrist, and his own bloodied hand put the tip of his wand to his temple. His
hand trembled and so did hers with the effort. Sweat rolled down her neck.

"Confundo," she ordered. She attempted to send her own magic through his wand as a conduit like
she had read, but the old magic she attempted was too advanced and too much for her body. She
held it only for a moment more, and then the magic dissipated.

The man looked at her fearfully now, trembling as he pointed his wand at her. He could kill her or
hurt her, and she had no more energy to stop it. Hermione closed her eyes and grit her teeth,
attempting to be brave for what was to come.

"Avada Kedavra!" A green light struck the filthy man, and he collapsed. The wand rolled out of his
hand, and his eyes stared at her unseeing.

Hermione fell to her knees, stunned at the sudden turn of events. Blood leaked through her clothes
and dripped down her skin—too much to be safe–and the wound burned. Whatever the man cast
was serious. Black spots obstructed her vision, but she was conscious enough to see Lucius Malfoy
walk out of the shadows with Draco beside him, looking pale.

"She's hurt!"

"She'll live. Of that, I'll make sure." Lucius sent a healing spell to her. It helped stitch the wound,
but she'd still need to see a healer soon.

The blond man glanced at the unconscious auror on the ground and at the filthy wizard's severed
finger. He raised an eyebrow, giving an odd, delighted smile.

"For someone that's never held a wand, you put on an impressive show. Either you're a natural, or
you've been a naughty girl. I suspect it's both, for you to be able to do complicated wandless magic
at fourteen years old." He shook his head, but he looked pleased, and Hermione didn't know why.
"I knew you'd be powerful when you aged, but you've already exceeded my expectations."
She wondered how long he had stayed in the shadows before intervening.

The darkness took over, and she sank lower into the stone. Her eyes fluttered open just enough to
see Lucius bend down and pick her up, cradling her to his chest. It oddly comforted her, despite
him being her father's killer and a prominent figure in her nightmares.

"You smell like Draco," she said in her delirium, remembering the clean, sharp scent on Hopper.
The older Malfoy frowned and gave a furious glance to his son.

"I'm going to pretend she never said that, and you better hope Titus never heard her say something
similar. You're old enough now that he won't think it's innocent."

Draco looked so adorably confused it would have made Hermione smile if she wasn't in so much
pain.

Lucius renewed the spell on the auror, and both he and an unconscious Theo jolted into the air. The
senior Malfoy began to walk down the dark alley, the bodies drifting after him.

"Pay close attention, son," he said. "I'm about to show you an important life lesson."

"What's that?"

"How to capitalise on chaos."

Hermione knew no more.

 Blackmail and Demands
Chapter Notes

Song Suggestion: The Prince of Egypt Soundtrack– "All I Ever Wanted" (with
Queen's Reprise)

A BIG thank you to my Beta, MyPrivateInsanity!

Hermione's eyes fluttered open just as she was placed on the dining room table. A stab of pain
lanced through her left side. It burned more than a cut should.

"Am I dying?" she asked Titus. He stood over her with an expression she'd never seen on him—an
intense mixture of fear and fury.

"I won't let you, Sprite."

He took off her top robes, shoving up her bloodied white shirt to reveal the wound. Shaking fingers
ghosted over the jagged skin, held together by the first aid spell.

"They're going to regret this." Titus bent down his head, grimacing at the ground. "The streets will
run red with blood. They'll cry for mercy, and I won't give it."

A healer came through the floo in her heavy robes and serene expression. Titus towered over her.

"Keep her alive, or I'll end you too."

The serene expression dropped with a wince. Titus stepped away as the woman began her spells,
and Hermione slipped back into darkness.

"There are things we need to discuss."

Lucius' voice woke her up. Hermione guessed she was in her room, judging by the soft mattress.
She didn't open her eyes, knowing an important conversation was happening. She wondered what
they would say without knowing she listened.

"Can't this wait?" Titus sounded stressed. "I'll make sure you're rewarded for finding her, but I
want you to fuck off right now."

"Wait for what? The boy is sleeping in his room. The girl is healing. There are no pressing
matters."

"My thoughts are not in the right place for negotiations."

"I'm not going to negotiate."

Silence. Titus shifted in the chair. Hermione dared to peek out of the barest slit of her eyelid. Only
Lucius and Titus were in her room. She reclosed her eyes, oddly disappointed Draco wasn't there.

"What do you want?" Titus asked. It sounded forced like he said it through clenched teeth.
"The girl can do magic."

Titus scoffed.

"Is that supposed to be news? Of course, she can. Accidental magic happens around her all the
time. She's a witch."

The click of a cane echoed against her bedroom walls.

"This was far from accidental."

Again, silence. This time heavier.

"Explain."

"Are you saying I know something about your ward that you don't?"

"Stop with the games, Lucius. There's a point you want to make, so I suggest you make it before I
lose my temper. The only reason I'm entertaining you right now is because you were the one who
found her."

"It will do well for you to remember that," Lucius warned. "When I arrived, the girl had just
produced a decent Protego with Theodore's wand… and then proceeded to cast a Reducto that took
off the man's finger. I'm fairly certain she petrified the auror too."

More silence.

"There's no way that's possible. She's never held a wand in her life."

"I'll show you my memories if you wish."

That must have convinced him.

"Bloody hell," Titus cursed, then something shattered. She assumed he threw his tumbler. "If the
ministry figures out she can do magic with a wand, they'll—"

"Take her away," Lucius finished. It came out as a threat. Hermione struggled to keep her eyes
closed and her breathing even. "They'll consider you an unfit guardian. You're lucky Kingsley
destroyed the trace when he turned traitor, or she might have been discovered already."

She didn't want to be taken away. She regretted her late-night wand practice, her relentless pursuit
of magic. Hermione didn't know the consequence would mean she'd be ripped from Theo and
Titus.

"Luckily, Draco and I were the only ones who witnessed this. Well, a few muggleborns did too, but
I managed to fix that easy enough."

Fix that? She wondered what he meant. The thought of the dirty, skinny muggleborns eating rats
gave her an odd feeling. One she didn't know how to place. It caused an acute discomfort deep
inside her soul. It stuck to her insides, no matter how hard she tried to shake it loose.

"Thank you." His voice was strained. More than before.

"I didn't do it for free."

"What's your price?"

Another click of a cane, as if Lucius adjusted his stance.

"Accept Draco's token."

"Fuck, fine. I'll let the little wanker compete when it comes time. Is it worth the risk of
blackmailing me, Malfoy?"

"She's extraordinary. There's no other muggleborn like her. In fact, there's nary a witch like her.
Even among the Purebloods, she stands out."

"I can agree with you on that." Titus sucked in a quick breath, and then his voice lowered into
something serious. "I'm not sure how she managed to learn to do magic with a wand, but I promise
I'll discover the source and end it."

Lucius only laughed. It sounded mocking.

"Don't bother. Let the girl learn, just keep it quiet. If something like this happens again, she should
be able to protect herself. Once the Order learns about her abilities and power, they'll stop at
nothing to obtain her. Besides, you could break every wand around her, and it wouldn't stop her."

"I'm not following."

"The girl doesn't need a wand to do magic."

The legs of the chair scraped as Titus stood straight up.

"What you're suggesting is impossible. She's fourteen, and she's had no training."

"Which makes it all the more incredible. She's clever enough to discover what she needs, even if
you never gave it to her. I'm guessing she's been utilizing your library to its fullest potential. If I
hadn't seen it with my own eyes, I wouldn't have believed it either. I almost stepped in after the
wizard expelled her wand, but then she lifted her hands, and the man froze." He paused to let it sink
in. "She made the wizard put his own wand to his temple and tried to cast a Confundo through his
wand. It didn't work this time, but give it a few more years…"

Titus began to pace. She heard his boots scuffing the hard wood floors.

"What you're suggesting is… is on Dumbledore's level. On Shacklebolt's level.

On Voldemort's level. How am I supposed to handle that?"

"It's simple," Lucius drawled. "You oversee her training, so the magic doesn't turn against her. I've
heard of strong wizards going mad without a substantial outlet. Most of the muggleborns will get
enough through the ministry-blunted wands they get at fifteen, but the girl will need more. If you
give her just enough, you can control her power. Leave her to her own devices, and she might grow
hard to control, even for you."

Titus seemed to be thinking in the pause.

"A trip to Ollivanders?"

"Normally, I'd be opposed to it, but, in this case, there is no choice. She'll need a wand for her
magical level. Just control the information she receives. We wouldn't want an intelligent
muggleborn with the power of Dumbledore to gain access to dangerous spells. Just enough, Nott,
just enough."
Hermione stopped her instinctive recoil. She didn't know if she wanted to rage at the fact that they
both wanted to control her knowledge, or if she deserved to lose it after almost getting Theo killed.
There'd be no more late-night practice with a stick and her will, studying whatever she wished,
reading any book. The thought of it being taken away left her empty.

Titus stopped pacing. She assumed he stared at Lucius.

"For your silence, I'll allow Draco to put in a token. If there's nothing else, I want you to leave my
home."

"Oh, you'll do more than that."

"What else?" The words were hard as iron.

"I want a guarantee he'll win."

Hermione heard the shuffle of feet toward Lucius in obvious anger, but Lucius didn't retreat.

"What you're asking for is cheating."

"No, it's ensuring my bloodline continues with the best witch available. I'm not letting a game
decide such an important thing. Don't pretend the others don't rig the games for the highest buyer.
What I'm offering guarantees everyone wins. In the meantime, I want you to allow a few letters a
year from Draco. My son has grown fascinated with the girl, but it's important the girl develops
loyalty to him, so fostering a relationship is paramount."

A little thrill went through her when thinking of getting letters from Malfoy again, though she
didn't know if she wanted him to win her Trial. She didn't like cheating, and she definitely
would not be loyal to the spoiled prat.

"You go too far."

"I'm not asking you to leave them alone together. You can even oversee their correspondence. He
won't touch her before it's time. It will simply ensure a healthy transition into the Malfoy
household. We've both seen witches fight and scream on the ritual night. It's not pleasant. Do you
want that for Hermione?"

Ritual night? It sounded ominous and made her stomach swoop low with nerves. Just like anything
to do with the Trials, she doubted she'd get any information from the library or Titus. She'd
somehow need to discover it for herself.

Titus hesitated, like what he asked was almost painful.

"Even if she knows the boy, I doubt it will still be a pleasant experience."

"No," Lucius agreed. "But at least, if she develops a level of trust, the night will go easier."

"Alright… two letters a year." Titus collapsed in a chair. "Anything else? My left kidney,
perhaps?"

She could almost swear she heard Lucius roll his eyes.

"You can keep your organs," Lucius said. "I just want the girl. For that, you'll have my silence."

A door opened and closed, and Lucius walked out. Hermione tried to keep even breathing. She
stayed in that suspended tension until Titus let out a loud sigh.
"Go back to sleep, Hermione," Titus said. "We'll talk tomorrow."

Titus walked to the door, opened it with a hard jerk, and slammed it behind him.

She woke up to a warm hand on her forehead. She tried to sit up, but the same hand pressed down
on her shoulder.

"Not now, my girl. The healer just left and said you needed to stay in bed for at least a day. That
dark cutting curse hit your spleen. Any deeper and… well, nothing was permanently damaged,
thank Merlin."

Her fuzzy eyesight cleared. Tabitha sat over her, giving her a look full of love. She was in her own
room still, but now it was daylight.

"Oh, my poor dear." She ran a cool hand down her cheek. "How scared you must have been. Two
teenagers against three armed wizards. It's a miracle you're here and alive."

"I'm okay," Hermione assured her old nurse maid before she could start crying. Tears always made
her uncomfortable.

But it only seemed to make Tabitha more upset.

"The thought of you or Theo getting hurt—." She fluffed and tucked her thin blankets in a
ridiculous way.

"I promise I won't freeze to death," Hermione said.

"I guess you are feeling better if you're back to your cheeky comments. Get some rest, dear."
Tabitha gave a final, teary smile and exited.

That was when she noticed Titus. He stood against the wall with his hands in his pockets. The light
from the window hit him just right, making his blue eyes glow. The sun's rays showed off the
subtle auburn streaks within his dark hair. His expression was neutral, but she still tensed, knowing
she had disobeyed him.

"You're not going to cry too, are you?" Hermione asked.

"Do you want me to?"

"Merlin, no."

A smile tugged up the side of his lips, but it fell.

"Is—" she began. "Is Theo okay?"

"More than fine. He's been milking the injury. I think he's just trying to make me feel sorry for
him, so he doesn't get punished."

Hermione swallowed hard, throat dry. She needed water and food, but she knew this conversation
came first.

"I'm sorry," she said. "It was my fault. I convinced Theo—"

"Theo knew better. Don't excuse his behavior. I'm angry at the both of you. You could have been
killed," it came out as strained. "Do you know how it felt, knowing you were missing? Don't ever
do something stupid like that again."

Hermione nodded. She pulled out her hands and stared down at them, knowing more was coming.

"Why didn't you bring me to St. Mungo's?"

"There was a breach in security at the hospital from the Order. It was meant to pull my attention
away from your kidnapping, but the second auror I sent to bring you home couldn't find you. I
didn't have time to secure the hospital, so the manor was the safest place to heal you."

Hermione's heart pounded as she brought up the next subject. He'd ask her anyway, so she felt the
need to start the conversation.

"You know about my magic?"

Titus gave a sharp nod. He examined her then, as if he'd never seen her before.

"I know Lucius' story, but I don't trust it." He gave her a pointed stare. "I'm going to have to see
your memories." He walked over and sat on the edge of the bed, facing her. The mattress dipped
with his weight. He pulled out his wand and put it to her temple. "I hate doing this. It will hurt, but
I have to see everything."

Hermione steeled herself as Titus dove into her mind. It took a moment, but he arrived at the ice
cream shop. He followed them through the bookstore. The whiplash of memory made her ill, and it
began to hurt, but he continued watching as they raced through the streets and into Knockturn
Alley. What came next tumbled her stomach, having to relive every awful word, the pain, the
terror.

When he finally pulled out, Hermione leaned over and vomited on the ground. She groaned and
laid back, clutching her head to soothe the pain. The world spun around her.

"Sorry Sprite, but it had to be done."

He allowed her to recover, cleaning her vomit, and wiping her curls from her forehead. When she
finally regained her bearings, she looked over to find Titus sitting in the chair, resting his chin on
his knuckles in deep thought.

"If Garner did as he originally planned, it might have worked. I probably wouldn't have found you.
So even if you did do something stupid, it saved you both from a worse fate."

He blew out a hard breath through his mouth and pressed his knuckles to the middle of his eyes.
Then he sat up and leaned back in his chair.

"The redhead is Charlie Weasley, an exceptional dragon trainer. I worked with him a few months
ago when we needed help with some magical creatures. Even considered him a friend. His parents
were blood traitors, but I always thought—." He shrugged, looking disappointed. "I guess some
things run in families."

"Did you find him?" She knew he must have already extracted Garner's memories.

"No," he answered. "His favorite Hungarian Horntail is missing too. I doubt we'll find him any time
soon."

A part of Hermione hoped they didn't find him. Titus would kill him, and he didn't seem violent,
even if he did work for the Order. Maybe they could change his mind and convince him the Order
was wrong.

"What will happen to the auror?"

A dark look passed his face. She rarely saw him this cold.

"Garner had a false tooth filled with poision to commit suicide, but I cured it before it could kill
him. Weasley should have ended him instead of leaving him alive. His mistake will cost him."

She wondered if that was what the redhead hesitated about moments before leaving. Had he been
tasked to kill the others if things went south? The thought made her ill.

The auror scared her, and he hurt Theo, but she didn't want him dead, not like she did with the
filthy one. She looked down at the blanket. Something felt a little broken inside her chest.

"Can you promise you won't hurt him?"

"I wish I could appease your soft heart, but I won't promise that."

She breathed out, knowing she couldn't argue with Titus when he was determined like this.

"Are you angry with me?"

She looked up to find him grinning at her.

"I'm so fucking proud of you." He got up and walked over, once again resting on the edge of the
mattress. "A highly-trained auror— one of the best— and you brought him down with a single
spell. You faced down the other wizards with courage, protecting both yourself and Theo." He
paused, as if unsure how to word what he wanted to say. "Garner told you many lies. You aren't a
slave, Hermione. You're loved by this whole household, and your home is here." He looked
serious. "You need to know that so no one else makes you question who you are to me."

Hermione's heart warmed as he talked. The bad feeling in her chest lifted a little. What the auror
had said did bother her, but it helped to know Titus cared for her. She was important to him and to
wizarding kind. The Order was wrong for trying to take her. She belonged at Nott Manor.

She glanced around, taking in all of her possessions—the accumulation of her life. Her expensive
clothes were displayed in the wardrobe, and the vanity sparkled with her jewelry and a mother-of-
pearl hairbrush. The Puffskein rug was situated under a fluffy chair in the corner for reading next to
a giant bookcase of her personal favorites. Pictures that she'd taken with her new camera hung on
the wall. In the nearest one, Theo and Titus waved at her from beside the pool.

Titus didn't think of her like a dog. He loved her. And if the Order thought they could take her
again, then they'd find her as ferocious an adversary as Titus.

Hermione reached out and grabbed his hand. It was large and calloused from years of quidditch,
hard work, and dueling. Something fluttered in her stomach, but she ignored it. Titus gave a gentle
squeeze and extracted his hand.

"Do I even need to ask how you learned to cast with and without a wand?"

Hermione pushed down her smirk and looked out the window.

"I've been reading magical theory, and I practice at night with a stick."

Titus gave a deep belly laugh.

"You're something else, Sprite." He reached out and tugged on a curl, and she shoved his hand
away playfully.

Hermione hesitated a moment before asking the next question.

"Will you let Draco win like you promised Lucius?"

"Absolutely not. No one manipulates me and gets away with it. But for now, I think it's best if we
play along."

"Do I have to be nice to him?"

He gave another loud laugh.

"Please don't. Someone needs to put him in his place."

"I don't like Lucius."

Titus rolled his eyes.

"No one likes Lucius. Not even Lucius likes Lucius."

She laughed at that. Titus paused, eyes roaming her face.

"As for your punishment… I'm going to ban you and Theo from Diagon Alley for the rest of the
summer."

Hermione groaned. They would be so bored, but it was only fair, she supposed.

"I'm sorry I scared you." She nestled back into her bed. Her side twinged. Dark magic took longer
to heal. "And I'm sorry I went to Knockturn Alley. I didn't think the Order would— I thought they
weren't real, like a fairytale. Now I know they're terrible. They wanted to take me from you."
Hermione choked on the last word, the closest she'd come to crying.

"You don't need to fear them," he said, voice going lower. "They need to fear me. After this, I plan
to become their nightmare. Their mothers will weep for their mistake." He gave a single touch of
his finger to her cheek. "Get some sleep. That's an order."

She believed him and never felt safer. Hermione closed her eyes, knowing nothing could hurt her
with Titus around.

Two weeks later, Titus brought her to Ollivander's. They went after it closed. Titus looked both
ways, making sure no one saw them. The bell jingled when they entered. The old man stacking
boxes looked surprised to see them, but he gave a warm smile.

"For your silence." Titus reached out his hand with a bag full of galleons. "I think you understand
why it would be bad if any word of this got out."

The old man looked at Titus and pushed back his hand.

"My wands are for any witch or wizard that needs one, and that includes muggleborns."

Titus' jaw clenched, and his hand gripped the bag of galleons harder than he should. There seemed
to be a lot said between the two men during the silence. Hermione didn't understand the hard
stares, but eventually Titus retracted the bag and placed it back in his pocket.
"Very well, but I should warn you that if this gets discovered, I'm coming to you first, regardless of
the source."

Ollivander gave a sharp nod and turned his gaze on Hermione, looking her up and down, as if
assessing for something. Eventually, his eyes lit up.

"Ah, yes, I think I know the one."

He led her to the rows and rows of wands and climbed a stool, pulling out several boxes of wands.
Hermione wondered how he kept them all straight. Any minute now, and they would all topple
over. But the stacks remained intact when Ollivander pulled out a black box. To her, it looked just
like the rest, but there must be some way for him to tell them apart.

He climbed down and opened the box to reveal a pretty black wand, straight and smooth. It looked
unbendable.

"Grab it," Ollivander encouraged. Hermione did, and it only emitted a few ugly sparks.

"No, no, that's not right." He grabbed the wand and placed it back in its box. He took another
moment, and then he gave a grin.

He walked back up and pulled out another, this one in a brown box.

When he opened it, a light brown wand emerged with a raised pattern on the bottom of vines
crawling up.

"Ten and three-fourths inches long, made of vine wood, with a dragon heartstring core. A
remarkable wand for a remarkable witch."

Hermione's breath caught in her throat before she touched it, knowing it was meant for her. The
magic called to her, twisting in her chest. Her fingers reached out, and when she grasped it, her
whole body lit up. Every cell in her body stood at attention, vibrating just below her skin. She gave
a gentle swish, and the room exploded in a firework of colors, a celebration.

Hermione laughed, watching the sparks of magic rain down around her. In the glow, Titus' face
appeared. His pensive expression cut through her joy for a moment, but it didn't last.

She gave another swish of her wand.

 Periwinkle
Chapter Notes

Song Suggestion: Peter Gundry- "The Vampire Masquerade"

A big thank you to my beta, MyPrivateInsanity. This chapter she especially helped me
reorder paragraphs to help the flow of the story!

Periwinkle

December arrived, and Hermione sat in front of her vanity. Tabitha stood behind her, taming her
hair into an intricate updo, braiding it into an impressive rose pattern around her head. A few curls
hung loose, despite Tabitha's attempts to subdue it.

"Lovely." Tabitha looked a little teary eyed, and Hermione rolled her eyes. The old woman cried at
everything, but Hermione enjoyed her obvious affection.

Hermione grinned, showing her new, improved teeth. She had always been buck-toothed, but a
spell had rebounded and knocked them out three weeks before. The healer made sure to regrow
them straight and even.

"Whose necklace is this?" She put a hand on the delicate string of diamonds, each one shaped like a
rose. It was one of the most beautiful pieces of jewellery she'd ever seen and had to be an heirloom.

"The late Mrs. Nott."

"Wouldn't Titus be angry I'm wearing it?"

"He's the one who suggested it."

She brushed the diamonds with the tips of her fingers, feeling the sharp points, and dropped her
hand. For the first time, she looked at herself in the mirror and didn't see a child. Tabitha had
allowed her to put on a little makeup, and she wore a dress they custom ordered in France in a
lovely periwinkle which glittered under the lights as she moved.

"I'm a little nervous," she admitted.

"Don't be." The old woman stared at her in the mirror warmly. "You're as beautiful as a flower.
None of the boys will be able to take their eyes off you."

"That's what I'm afraid of," a deep voice said. She glanced up to find Titus leaning on the
doorframe of her room, adjusting his cufflinks. "You do look beautiful, Sprite."

Her cheeks warmed with the compliment.

He wore formal dress robes, looking unfairly handsome. He had shaved his beard and combed his
hair into an attractive style. It looked smoother than she'd ever seen it, but it still curled at the nape
of his neck. His striking blue eyes stood out in contrast with his dark hair and clothing.
She hadn't seen him much lately. Work kept him busy. When she woke up, he'd already left for the
day, and by the time he came home, she was asleep. He promised he'd be here today though -
Hogwarts was hosting a Yule Ball as part of the Triwizard Tournament, and some of the
muggleborns had been invited. Delegations from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang would be there, and
rumour had it that the Quidditch star Viktor Krum was participating. She knew Theo must be
losing his mind, since Krum was his favourite.

Hermione couldn't wait to arrive. She'd never been to a ball or to Hogwarts.

"Will I be allowed to dance with other boys besides Theo?"

From his instant frown, it seemed like he wanted to say no.

"Yes, but under supervision. I'm sure Malfoy will be first in line." He held out his hand. "But I
require the first dance."

Hermione grabbed his hand, unable to stop a smile as he pulled her up and made her twirl. Her
skirt billowed and glittered.

They arrived at Hogwarts. Her eyes stayed on the old castle as they rolled closer in the carriage.
Ugly horses with wings pulled them, their skin pulled tight over bones. Thestrals, Titus called
them. Hermione wondered how they stayed alive when they resembled walking skeletons. When
she first saw them, she'd jumped in fright, but Titus' hand on her elbow steadied her.

"I forgot you'd see them."

"How can I?"

"You've seen death."

The thought made her shiver. She made a note in her mind to research the ugly creatures later.

When they finally stopped, Titus helped her out of the carriage, pausing while she straightened her
dress.

"It's beautiful," she said, studying the outline of the castle.

Grey stone spires reached to the sky. A giant lake reflected the moonlight, and an endless forest
grew in the distance. It looked like a fairy tale. She wondered what it would be like to call this her
school. It made her jealous of Theo, despite knowing she should be grateful she had lessons and
friends at home.

"I thought you would like it." Titus had a large grin on his face, eyes on Hermione's amazement.
He gave her hand a squeeze. "Are you ready for your first ball?"

Hermione nodded, unable to form words in her excitement. Torches lit the way as other people
entered the large stone hallways beside them. Behind her, Katie walked next to her mistress. When
she noticed Hermione, she gave a giant wave. She wore a dark blue dress with her hair curled into
waves on her shoulder. Many of the boys their age kept stealing glances as she passed. Not that
Katie noticed. Her friend would rather be in quidditch gear, flying around the pitch, getting dirty.
Her mistress must have earned some grey hairs getting Katie in a dress.

The boys weren't allowed to attend, and Julie was nowhere to be seen, but she assumed her mum
wouldn't let her come to a dance.
"Holy Merlin and Salazar." Theo walked into her vision. "You look like a girl."

Hermione reached out and pushed his shoulder for the backhanded compliment. For a moment, he
resembled his brother, since they wore similar clothes.

"And you look like an idiot."

Theo just blinked a few times, as if she looked like a different person. To be fair, she rarely dressed
up. He grabbed Hermione by the elbow.

"Let's go inside the Great Hall," he said. "The seventh years enchanted it to look like an ice palace.
You missed the first part. The Triwizard tournament competitors entered with their dates and
already had their first dance."

Their turn to enter came, and Titus presented their invitation so their arrival could be announced to
the room. As Theo had described, fake ice covered the room— an illusion so lifelike it felt cool to
the touch. Snowflakes fluttered from the ceiling, landing in their hair, and the ceiling displayed the
brilliant colours of an aurora borealis.

Their names were announced, and the entire room stopped dancing as they entered the Great Hall.
Even the music halted. Hermione's body heated at the inspection, and she wished she could
disappear. Since the incident in Knockturn Alley, she'd stayed at the manor, so being the center of
attention of so many people nearly overwhelmed her.

"Why are they all looking at us?"

"They aren't looking at us." Titus leaned down to whisper in her ear. "They're looking at you."

"But why?"

"You're famous," Theo answered.

"I am?"

Theo nodded.

"How you killed Fenrir is a legend, even as far away as Russia. And the way you got away from
our kidnappers has been the best gossip of the year. They're curious about you. Not to mention,
you're pretty. I'm sure they're all interested in putting in their tokens."

Titus gave a snort at Theo's suggestion. "I'm not accepting any tokens unless you find a boy you
like… though he still needs to be qualified according to my standards. I'm willing to consider if he
proves impressive enough."

Titus had created a story that she tricked her abductors instead of using magic, and the minister
gave her a letter of praise for her courage. No one knew the truth, except Titus, Draco, Lucius, and
herself. Even Theo didn't know about her magic, and it was the first secret she'd ever kept from
him.

From what her tutor told her, Dumbledore's curse had affected most of mainland Europe and Asia.
Other parts of the world were spared. The Americas, Australia, and the entire continent of Africa—
along with their muggle populations—banded together into a formidable alliance, locking down
their borders and refusing any attempts to trade for their muggleborns.
Hermione attempted to be brave, like a Gryffindor, but she blushed and looked away as they
walked through the students. The stares intensified as they went further into the room, from both
the boys and the girls, from Hogwarts, Beauxbatons, and Durmstrang. Even the professors' eyes
followed them.

The crowd parted as they glided through a group of older boys in red uniforms, looking severe and
handsome. One of them with buzzed dark hair caught her eye. He smiled and nodded his head, and
she gave a shy smile in return. In response, two of his friends shook his shoulder in encouragement.
The boy looked pleased with her reaction. She felt his stare on her back as they crossed to the edge
of the dance floor and joined the other guests observing the dancers.

"Bloody hell," Theo said, sounding breathless. "Did you see the way Viktor Krum looked at you?
Oh Merlin, you need to introduce me. What if he puts in a token for you? We could be like
brothers!"

Titus just glared at Theo, and then turned that glare on the crowd, as if they were all a threat.

Viktor Krum? Hermione chanced a glance back to the boy in the red uniform. He still stared at her,
and her heart accelerated with nerves.

"I don't think it meant anything. He just smiled."

"Just smiled! You're mental, Hermione. He's absolutely terrifying. I haven't seen him smile since
he arrived."

After the rest of the guests arrived, the music started back up. Titus offered her his hand, giving a
little bow.

"You promised me the first dance."

She placed her hand on top of his softly, and he led her to the center of the dance floor. She'd
grown a lot in the past year, so she no longer had to reach as far to put her hand on his shoulder.

"Like we practised, Sprite."

Tabitha and Titus had spent several weekends teaching some of the traditional pureblood dances.
She still missed a few steps, but Titus was as good a dancer as he was a dueler. Every time she
messed up, he adjusted, using his strength to direct where he wanted her.

As they twirled, she kept looking into the crowd. She hadn't seen Malfoy yet, and it bothered her.
He'd sent a letter a few weeks before that contained a single sentence: "I can't wait to see you at the
Yule Ball." A secret part of her hoped to see him too. She couldn't get his expression out of her
mind when his father had bent down and picked her up— a mix of concern, awe, and confusion.
Since that night, his face plagued her, hovering on the edge of her dreams.

It shocked her that she found Draco Malfoy attractive. She had spent much of the day getting
ready, thinking what she'd say to him, having imaginary conversations, and now he didn't even
bother showing up, contrary to his promise.

"Who are you looking for?" Titus asked.

"It doesn't matter."

"Malfoy?"
She answered with a grimace.

"You don't like him, do you?" He seemed mildly disgusted at the thought.

"No, but…I don't know."

"You still wanted to show him how dressed up you are?"

"I guess." She shrugged.

"Malfoy pops up everywhere he's not wanted. He'll show up soon. No doubt wanting a dance. And
if he doesn't show, I won't be disappointed."

Hermione laughed. Titus always knew how to make her smile.

The song ended. Titus made her twirl, and then tugged her back, dipping her low.

"Enjoy your night, Sprite."

Theo danced with her next. Unlike his brother, he didn't correct her, so they spent their time
stepping on each other's feet and cursing. At one point, he caught her when she almost stumbled.

"You're terrible," he teased

"Shut up. So are you."

"If you want to impress Viktor Krum, you need to improve fast."

"What do you mean?"

Theo pointed to his right where Viktor walked toward them as if on a mission. Hermione's cheeks
warmed, and for a moment she wished the floor would swallow her. When he reached them, he
gave a deep bow with one arm tucked behind his back. He straightened and turned to Theo, who
had dissolved into nervous tics the closer Krum got.

"I vould like to ask Herm-own-ninny for a dance."

She briefly considered correcting his pronunciation of her name, but Theo interrupted her,
sputtering out something incoherent, star-struck

Viktor turned to her with the same question in his expression.

Hermione searched out Titus— the true decision maker. He stood off to the side, eyes on Viktor,
looking a little amused at her anxiety. He nodded, showing he would allow it.

"I'd love to dance," she said. Whatever bravery Theo thought she possessed, it faltered when
Viktor reached out his hand, but Hermione managed to grab it in her panic.

As the boy led her further into the dance floor, Theo wiggled his eyebrows at her, and she stuck her
tongue out at him. When Viktor turned toward her, he placed a hand on the curve of her waist, in a
place not too low or too high. She put a hand on the edge of his shoulder, brushing along his crisp,
red uniform, and they kept an acceptable distance between them.

"I'm not a very good dancer," she warned.

He grinned.

"I am not either. Maybe ve can pretend." She liked his accent, paired with a surprisingly deep
voice.

They stayed that way, swaying a little back and forth, not quite doing the formal moves. The
silence began to weigh on her, and when she chanced a glance, Viktor was biting his cheek, eyes on
his feet, as if making sure he got the moves right. He seemed just as nervous as her, and it made
her feel better.

"How did you know my name?" She finally asked.

He gave a little laugh that rumbled through his chest.

"Everyone knows the muggleborn who killed Greyback. My friends vanted to ask for a dance, but
they vere too scared of your master."

"And you aren't?"

"Not afraid of the Butcher of Manchester? I vould be a fool."

Hermione tripped in shock, but Viktor kept her upright.

The Butcher of Manchester?

Hermione blinked several times without speaking. She wanted to ask him what he meant, but he
said it as if she should know. To clear her confusion, she shook her head. The thought
that Titus would be called the "Butcher" of anything was absurd. Viktor must be confused with
someone else. She ignored the comment completely, because it didn't even make sense.

"I knew your name too," she said after she regained her bearings. "Theo has a poster of you in his
room."

She blushed after she said it, afraid she sounded like a rabid fangirl. He seemed pleased by the
sentiment though.

"Do you like quidditch?"

On this, she refused to lie.

"Only a little," she admitted, and he gave a frown. "But I like to watch it sometimes… if I know the
players."

"Then maybe at the next Vorld Cup, you can cheer for me, since you know me."

The World Cup was a bit of an exaggeration, since it now only included European and Asian
teams.

"Of course."

They descended into a painful silence before Viktor turned his sharp eyes on her.

"There is a rumour you have vandless magic. They say you killed your kidnappers."

She tensed, unready for the question. What he asked was dangerous. Not to mention, she didn't like
to think of that day. Her nightmares returned with a vengeance, now with the new character of the
filthy wizard sawing off her fingers in revenge.

"I didn't kill any of them." Not a lie. "The Order members were just not very smart, is all." Lie.

Hermione fidgeted, knowing it gave her away. She was a decent liar, but she'd been thrown off
guard. If he'd only speculated about the wandless magic before, he knew now. A large, handsome
grin crossed his face.

"Do not vorry. I vill not tell. In Bulgaria, it is a valued skill. They are fools here to deny it."

Hermione blushed, not knowing what to say. He looked at her, studying her expressions.

"I forget how they are here. If a vizard is afraid of a vitch's magic, then he does not deserve her."

The music stopped. She was a little relieved it did, pulling away. Viktor gave a bow in her
direction.

"I plan to deserve you, Herm-own-ninny."

He twisted and walked stiffly back to his friends, who greeted him with congratulatory tugs on his
shoulder and sharp taps on his back.

No one else asked her to dance. A little disappointed, she stood next to Theo until she decided to
make her way to the refreshment table. When she got there, she barreled into a wizard, causing him
to spill his pumpkin juice. There were some awkward, "Sorry are you okays" before Theo's laugh
cut through the commotion.

"Harry!" Theo greeted him. "This is my sister, Hermione."

A boy with dark hair and pretty green eyes hidden behind glasses looked up and smiled. It was
open and wide— an honest smile. Harry Potter, Theo's friend. Hermione stuck out her hand, and
they shook. Theo told her Harry's mum was a muggleborn, and his parents married before the
curse. Hermione wished she could meet her.

"Hello, Hermione," he said. "Theo talks about you all the time. "

"Only good things, I hope."

"Most of the time." He gave a sideways smile. "He says you're wicked smart, but ruthless and a bit
of a swot."

Hermione tried to pinch Theo, but he hopped away before she could.

"You see how violent she is?" Theo stood behind his friend for protection. "I'm practically
mistreated."

"Blimey, Harry, this is that muggleborn."

Hermione turned toward the noise, not liking the tone, and came face to face with a boy with red
hair, blue eyes, and freckles. He said it as if she was some species of rare frog.

Ronald Weasley. She remembered the stories Theo told her about his family and felt both
uncomfortable with his family connections and a raw form of pity for the boy before her. He didn't
look much like his Dragon Tamer brother, though he was still good-looking. He wore atrocious
robes, with ruffles and holes, and they smelled a bit like mothballs.
She almost answered with, Blimey, this is that Blood Traitor, but she held her tongue. Instead, she
merely glared until the boy shifted on his feet.

"My name is Hermione," she said, nose a little in the air.

The boy rubbed the back of his neck.

"Ignore him," Harry cut in. "He's barely eaten today, and he turns into a troll when he's hungry."
He turned to Hermione, ignoring Ron's incredulous look, and then he paled. "Well, it was nice to
meet you, but I think we'll have to say goodbye. Titus looks like he might murder one of us."

Hermione twisted. Harry was right. Titus' stare could melt ice. He must not like her talking to
children of blood traitors.

"Sorry about how I greeted you, Hermione," Ron told her. He still rubbed the back of his neck. "I
really am a bit hungry."

She nodded her acceptance of the apology as they turned with new drinks and plates of food to
walk near a table of other Gryffindors. It felt strange seeing the group of them, as if she should be
there with them. Hermione shook her head from the stupid fantasy, trying to be grateful for her
school back home.

Still, as she watched the witches and wizards mingle and laugh, a needle lanced her heart, poisoned
with jealousy and bitterness.

Sneak Peek to Chapter 9: Draco Malfoy continues to be the clever little shit we all know and
love.
 Under the Moonlight
Chapter Notes

Song Suggestion: Frank Walker- "Kiss Me" (ft. Theresa Rex)... The man in the music
video gives me Draco vibes.

A big thank you to the brilliant MyPrivateInsanity for editing this chapter!

On updating: My chapters are 3k to 5k words, and I generally post once a week. That's
my sweet spot to prevent burn out (which would mean no updates at all). The Yule
Ball was cut in half, because it was almost 8k in all, which is hard for me to edit in a
week. I will not increase my pace or lengthen chapters until later in the story. Thanks
for understanding.

On that note, I will have to take next Sunday off because of several family events, and
I'm not sure if I will have time to edit or post.

Next update: August 21st

Just a warning: Please read the tags carefully. Right now, the story seems light, but it
will dive into fucked up themes (around chapter 15/16 it will start to get progressively
darker). This society is built on slavery, rape, and genocide. If you have any triggers at
all, you shouldn't read this. This story WILL make you uncomfortable. It's meant to
make you uncomfortable. However, I promise Hermione's eventual rise will be
satisfying as fuck.

"Can I show Hermione some of the castle?" Theo had waited to ask the question until Titus
stopped his conversation with Headmaster Snape.

"Maybe when I'm done. There are a few professors who I need to speak with before leaving."

"You'll never be done," Theo complained. "What could happen? Hogwarts is one of the safest
places to be. I promise to be next to her the whole time. We'll stay inside. I just wanted to show her
the library—"

"The library!" Hermione clasped her hands together in excitement.

Titus smirked at her enthusiasm. He always teased her about her love of learning, and how she
could get lost in a bookstore. When she gave her best pleading expression, Titus softened. She
planned to pull out every manipulation she knew to convince him, because he always found it hard
to say no to her.

"Fine," he conceded. "But only the library."

"But I wanted to show her the Astronomy Tower too. Or maybe the dungeons."

Titus shook his head.

"I'll allow the Astronomy tower, but not the dorms."

She'd take what she could get.

"Library first," she demanded. She heard Titus laugh as she grabbed Theo's arm and dragged him
out of the room.

"Only you would want to look at books when there is a dance going on," Theo said.

Hermione stood in the middle of the Hogwarts library, twirling with her arms outstretched, as if
that would help her absorb the knowledge. The librarian, Madam Pince, kept eagle eyes on them,
even as they disappeared in the stacks. Hermione knew she was a kindred soul.

"It's wonderful." She gave a deep sniff, sighing when it smelled exactly how she hoped, of old
pages and burnt candles and accumulated dust. "Besides, you were the one who first suggested it."

Theo had been fidgeting since they left the Great Hall, suggesting he was keeping something from
her. Hermione stopped her library worship and narrowed her eyes.

"What's wrong?"

"Well, if I tell you, you have to promise not to get mad."

Hermione crossed her arms, already not liking where this was leading.

"I will not promise that Theodore. Just tell me, or I'll get mad regardless."

Theo swallowed.

"I chose dare."

"I'm not following."

"During a game of Wizarding Truth or—"

"Theo!" Hermione's mouth fell open. "You did not play that horrid game. I thought you were
smarter than that. There are some real consequences to playing."

Theo sighed and blinked his hazel eyes. The glasses slid to the end of his thin nose, and he gave
one push to put them back into position.

"Yes, I know, which is why I need your help. I tried to keep with truth—honest, I did— but the
questions started to get embarrassing. So on my last turn I chose dare."

Hermione already began to think, knowing Theo got himself into a bind only she could get him out
of.

"Is that why you wanted to get away from the dance and Titus?"

He reached out and placed a hand on her shoulder, looking grave. "Draco dared me to get you up
to the Astronomy Tower alone tonight."

"Alone!"

"Salazar, Hermione, I'm sorry. I'm a terrible brother. Just curse me, I deserve it. Titus would flay
me alive if he found out."
Hermione tried to be angry, but a new sensation burned under her skin, a little feverish. Draco
never intended not to see her, he just wanted to see her alone. It was wrong and forbidden, and at
the moment, there was nothing she wanted more, if only to punch him in the nose for manipulating
Theo again.

"What will happen if I refuse to meet him?"

"I'll go blind for a year."

Hermione drew in a sharp breath, attempting to control her anger, but it proved difficult. Theo
looked at her with pleading eyes.

"I'll go, but you owe me big time."

Theo grabbed her and kissed both cheeks, drawing her into a deep hug.

"Oh, thank you, thank you, thank you," he said. "You're a beautiful goddess, and I am forever—"

"Yeah, yeah." Hermione shoved him off her. "Just lead the way before Titus decides to leave early,
and you can't see for a year."

Hermione climbed the creaky steps. She hated heights, part of the reason she hated flying. It
always made her feel as if she'd tip into the void, dizzy and nauseous, even if she stood away from
the edge. Now the burning pinpricks sprouting across her body eclipsed the vertigo, giving her
enough courage to keep going.

The cold wind greeted her first, slicing through the thin material of her dress. Her breath formed
tiny clouds in the air.

Draco waited at the top, leaning over the railing. He turned toward her as she entered, and she
wished she could capture the surprise on his face.

"You look—"

He didn't finish, eyes trailing up and down. He wore a set of robes so dark that he blended into the
night sky behind him. His hair was without gel, reminding her of fine silk, and she found she
preferred him this way. His pale hair brushed the tops of his porcelain cheeks, highlighting his
crystal eyes— every feature a different shade of colourless. The older he got, the more he looked
like his angel-monster father. Hermione didn't know if that repulsed or enticed her, and it swirled
inside her into a poison. It made her veins sluggish, her brain foggy.

But not too foggy.

"What am I doing here, Malfoy?" She crossed her arms on her chest.

"After all the risk to get you alone, I'd forgotten you insist on being a brat."

Usually, she'd be offended, but instead she laughed.

"Is that any way to sweet talk me?"

"Oh, you want me to sweet talk you? I honestly thought you'd like some verbal sparring, but I can
do that too if you wish."

"Ugh, don't bother with either. I'm only here for Theo." Hermione looked around. "What do you
want?"

"To dance, of course."

The music floated all the way up here. It sounded muted, but each note jumped along her skin, and
the hairs on her arms stood up.

"You could have done that in the Great Hall."

"Not in the way I want to do it." He looked her up and down again in a way that made her whole
body tingle in anticipation. "Also, I don't think Titus likes me very much, and at the moment, it's
mutual."

Draco held out his hand for her to take. She stared at it, considering. She'd get in just as much
trouble as Draco for this. But she was curious what he planned, and besides Viktor, no one else had
asked her to dance.

She didn't know what was going on with her body that made her discard logic. Despite her brain
reminding her of all the consequences, Hermione reached out and grabbed his hand. His palm was
rough under her soft skin and hot to the touch, such a contrast to the December chill. Draco
smirked and tugged her close. She stumbled, but he caught her, placing her against his body.

"Oh," she said, with both hands pressed to his chest. His heart raced beneath her palm, telling her
under all the bravado, this scared him too.

Since her mind had decided to stop working for the night, she stood there while Draco repositioned
their arms so both of hers wrapped around his neck, while his went around her waist. Viktor had
kept a respectable distance while dancing, putting his hands in the proper place, but Draco didn't
bother. He touched her lower back near the curve of her bottom and kept their bodies pressed
together. There were no fancy twirls, no coordinated movements. Instinct drove the small sways, a
feral beat in her blood.

"I don't remember being taught this pureblood dance." Her mouth hovered near his neck. She
thought if she concentrated enough, she could see his veins.

"I made my own." One of his hands traced up her spine. The hot touch dragged across her clothes,
and an involuntary gasp pulled from her chest.

"This is against the rules."

"Rules are for commoners." His lips dipped down to her ear. "They don't apply to me. I get what I
want, and no one tells me what to do."

She believed him. He wanted to dance with her alone, and he somehow managed that, right under
Titus' nose, a feat no one else would dare. Something about the boy was dangerously intelligent,
obsessive, and entitled. She shouldn't encourage his advances, but this felt like a challenge.

"What do you want then?"

"To kiss you."

Hermione tried to pull back, a little wary. Her heart jumped to her throat, afraid he could see
through her. After seeing pictures of people kissing, she'd wanted to try it with Titus - but many
nights since that day in Knockturn Alley, she'd thought of Draco instead.
"I've never—"

"I haven't either," he admitted with a shrug. "You'd be my first too. But it's the perfect place and
time, don't you think? Dancing under the moonlight, music playing."

That sounded suspicious. It was the exact fantasy she had for her first kiss, and she'd only told one
person.

"You got this from Theo, didn't you?"

"You're quick. It's why I like you so much. I know I'll never be bored."

"That wanker," she cursed, much to Draco's amusement. "When I get my hands on that skinny little
worm—"

Draco gave a deep laugh, looking happier than she'd ever seen him. It was an odd, eerie sight, she
decided.

"I quite like it when I'm not the target of your anger. It does things to me."

"Keep talking, and I'm sure I will be angry with you again."

"That does things to me too." He pressed her back into place, curving her body against his. "Don't
be so hard on Theo. I did plan it out, and Theo picked truth just one too many times. And then he
had the nerve to choose dare against me, and I couldn't waste the opportunity."

True. In the end, Theo was a hapless pawn in Draco's complicated game of chess. Remembering
Lucius' talk with Titus, she knew Draco had learned to play from the best.

"So what do you think?" he asked, staring at her. She found she couldn't quite meet it.

"About what?"

"About having our first kiss."

Her skin felt hot, but she was desperately curious. She'd been curious about kissing for years. Her
eyes flicked up, and she thought that might have been a mistake because she felt lost in the grey.

"I don't really know you."

"Unfortunately, we aren't given the time to fix that. If I could, I'd properly court you, but I can only
send you a few letters a year, which I'm sure Titus monitors. So if we don't kiss now, we'll have to
wait until after I win you at the Trials, and that's years away."

"You could kiss other girls besides me."

He gave a snort of a laugh.

"Which girls? Pansy is like a sister, Daphne is unbearably dumb, and the others don't even count."
His hands briefly tightened against her dress. "I don't want anyone but you. I haven't been able to
stop thinking about you since seeing you fight that wizard." He paused, and she watched as his
throat moved as he swallowed. "Besides, I doubt you'd have another chance to kiss a bloke, unless
you want to kiss Theo."

"Gross." She shook her head to get the image out. She glared at him. "You bully Theo. Why should
I even talk to you?"
"I haven't bullied him since first year."

Her glare intensified.

"Fine, I make fun of him a little, but he makes it too easy. It's not serious anymore. I understand
he's your brother." Malfoy stopped, as if to read her expression. "Any other questions? Because
you don't have much time to decide."

He made a valid point. When would she get another opportunity to get a first kiss? Draco offered
something she'd been desperately curious about, and she did find him attractive. Not to mention, he
gave her Hopper. He couldn't be that bad if he'd saved him for all those years, mending and
cleaning him.

"If we do this, it's just an experiment. It doesn't mean I have any feelings for you."

"Sure," he said with a wicked smile, as if he thought differently.

The idea of kissing intrigued her, but the reality made her nerves tingle.

"To be extra clear, I don't like you."

"Lots of people kiss without liking each other."

She wasn't sure if that was true or not.

"What if we're terrible at it?" She asked.

"How would either of us know?"

"What if someone finds out?"

"Are you going to overanalyse everything?"

"Probably."

He shook his head, looking a little amused.

"Stop. Thinking."

He leaned down slowly, eyes on her lips. She should stop him, slap him, but she reached up to let
their lips connect. He softly pressed against her, making a little noise, like a sigh. She gasped
against his mouth, and then her whole body melted into him. His hands left her waist and cradled
either side of her head.

And then his tongue slid across her lips, making her jerk back in surprise.

"What are you doing?"

"Kissing you properly." He kept her cheeks cradled in his hands, fingers messing up her elaborate
rose braids. "Just trust me. We're experimenting, remember?"

Trust him? She couldn't trust him, but again her curiosity ruled her. Did people use their tongue? If
so, did it feel good?

"Okay," she whispered.

He lowered his head. When his tongue touched her lips again, she opened, allowing him inside.
The taste and warmth of him scorched across her body, zipping up and down. Hermione's fingers
curled into his outer robes, wrinkling the expensive material in her grasp.

She wasn't sure how long they stood in each other's embrace, fingers entwined in each other's
clothes and hair, tongues brushing against each other. Draco broke free of it and kissed down her
cheek, letting his lips touch just under her ear. Her whole body jolted in pure pleasure.

"You like that?" Draco whispered low against her skin.

She almost answered him, but Theo's voice carried up.

"Hermione… Malfoy," he sounded stressed. "My brother will be looking for us soon."

Draco groaned, but he pulled back. He tucked a loose curl behind her ear.

"Did that match your fantasy?"

"Almost." She didn't want him to think too highly of himself.

"Practice will fix that. You seem like a perfectionist. Soon enough, we'll be expert snoggers."

Hermione laughed at his audacity to ever think he'd be able to do this again, unless he won at the
Trials. She managed to extricate herself from his arms, though everything inside her wanted to leap
back toward him. Draco rubbed his thumb against his bottom lip.

"Perhaps," she said. "Though I have high standards. I expect you to keep meeting them."

She made her way to the stairs.

"Of course."

"And stop bullying people, or I'm going to start bullying you!"

"Careful, I might like that." He gave a handsome grin. "Bye, Granger. I'll find a way for us to
practise snogging again."

She jolted on the spot. The unfamiliar name stabbed her soul, pinning her feet to the ground.

"Granger? What's that?"

"It's your last name. Your real one. Don't you remember?"

In a distant dream. She cradled the knowledge in her heart, a precious thing. The beat of the word
conjured her father's face, the way he smiled, something she feared she'd forgotten forever. Her
chest ached, but in a good way. She blinked a few times.

"Why did you call me that? I have a name."

"A weird one, and everyone else uses it. You hear it all day, so it's become nothing. I needed
something that would be only mine."

The word was as dangerous as he was. Muggleborns shed all their muggle connections, including
their last names. She'd forgotten it without its use. She liked it. The way he said it, low and slow,
sent the word as a caress along all the places his lips touched.
She smiled, showing she accepted the nickname and nearly danced down the stairs, unable to
contain her excitement, the thrill of doing something forbidden.

When Theo saw her, his eyes widened. He shook his head when she stepped beside him.

"Oh no, what did you two do?"

"We kissed."

"I'm going to die," he groaned. "Titus will gut Draco, me, and you. Probably in that order. Or,
really, he'll just yell at you, but you'll be attending my funeral shortly."

Hermione rolled her eyes.

"Titus will never know."

He managed to look ashamed.

"He will if you walk in with that stupid smile. Your lipstick is smeared, and your hair is out of
place. Here, let me fix it."

Theo fixed her appearance, and by the time they arrived back at the Great Hall, she'd also gotten
her expression under control.

Titus waited by the punch bowl. A young female professor stood next to him. She giggled while
looking up at him, and Hermione didn't like it.

Titus had women over sometimes, bringing them straight to his bedroom. Hermione suspected they
had sex. Even though she didn't quite know the logistics of the act, she knew it involved nakedness
and nighttime. A few times Titus forgot to silence the room, and she heard the low groans from
across the hall. At first, she thought the women were in pain, but it sounded too… enthusiastic.
They begged him for things that made her blush even without understanding. The women never
came to breakfast, and he rarely had the same woman over twice. She should be used to seeing the
flirting and the fluttering eyelashes, but the sight always left her with a twisted feeling in her
stomach.

Getting her errant emotions under control, Hermione approached Titus. He looked up and gave her
a wink. Noticing his shift in attention, the young professor turned and noticed who he
acknowledged.

"She's so cute," the woman said, and Hermione bristled. There were many things she wanted to be,
and cute wasn't one of them.

"Hello, Professor James," Theo stepped in, recognizing Hermione's annoyed expression.

"Hello, Theo, I hope you enjoyed the dance."

"I did."

The woman nodded at both of them, telling Titus goodbye with a hopeful glance a person would
have to be an idiot not to interpret. He gave a nod of his head as she walked away.

"How was the library, Sprite?"

"I think I conjured it from a dream."

He gave a little laugh.

"Maybe I'll bring you back someday," Titus pushed on his brother's shoulder. "When Theo makes
the quidditch team, perhaps."

"Hey," Theo protested. "I tried out. I should have at least beaten Pucey, but Draco's an arse still and
convinced the captain not to choose me."

Hermione wanted to blame Draco, but she couldn't. Despite Theo loving the game, despite having
an entire pitch built for him, he wasn't very good. Just not very naturally athletic. It was a wonder
he and Titus were related.

"What did you think of the astronomy tower?" Titus asked.

She almost startled but kept it under control.

"It was—" she searched for the correct word. "Educational."

Theo paled and looked close to murdering her.

Titus straightened when he looked to the side. Hermione followed his eyesight and was surprised
to see Viktor Krum walking toward them. When he arrived, he bowed low. Hermione found his
formality endearing. When he stood back up, he faced Titus.

"Viktor Krum," he said, holding out his hand for Titus to shake.

Titus looked amused, but he shook the extended hand.

"Yes, I know. And I'm sure you know my name too."

"I do."

"And I'm Theo Nott," her brother squeaked out, jumping in front of Titus with his hand out.

Titus gave a snort and shook his head. Viktor grabbed Theo's hand, and her brother appeared like
he might faint with joy.

"If you vill allow me, I vould like to offer my token for Herm-own-ninny."

Titus' eyebrows rose, but he didn't look surprised.

"And why should I consider you?"

"I am the contender for Durmstrang in the Trivizard tournament. My lineage reaches back to the
Dark Ages, and I am the seeker for the Bulgarian National Quidditch Team. I am capable of taking
care of her at the same level you do and vould honour her in my home."

"Impressive enough." Titus looked at Hermione. "What do you think?"

Hermione blushed, grateful Titus gave a choice in the matter. Most masters didn't. There needed to
be three tokens, so she had to choose somebody, and she enjoyed their interactions so far. Behind
his eyes, there was a simple kindness. He was a much better option than many of the boys, though
maybe not as handsome or interesting as Draco.

"Yes."
Titus looked serious, but he nodded.

"Alright," he said. "I'll accept your token. I must warn you the competition will be fierce. The
young Malfoy also has a token entered, but I'm sure the others will be on calibre with you once I
accept."

"I look forward to the challenge."

Viktor reached in his pocket and took out a round, flat disk about twice the size of a galleon with
his family crest stamped on it. When Titus reached forward and took it, sparks of magic erupted.

Before Viktor could pull away, Titus tugged him back, nose to nose.

"If you lied to me, or if your honour is called into question, I will give back the token and not in a
kind way. Do you understand?"

Viktor nodded, for once letting a fraction of fear peek through, looking almost relieved when Titus
stepped back and pocketed the token. Then the boy turned his attention to Hermione. "Goodbye,
Herm-own-ninny."

"Goodbye," she said back.

When he walked away, Theo placed a hand on her shoulder.

"If he wins, you better give me front row tickets at some point."

Titus rolled his eyes along with Hermione.

"Let's get you home, Sprite." He paused, as if something occurred to him. "Malfoy didn't show."

"I thought you said you wouldn't mind if he didn't."

"That's true. It's just out of character."

"Maybe he was ill."

Titus crinkled his eyes in deep thought.

"Possibly, but not likely." His eyes snapped up, studying Hermione carefully. "Did you see him?"

Titus was very good at detecting lies. It was his career.

"I'm pretty sure I saw him somewhere tonight. He probably just didn't want to dance in front of
everyone in the Great Hall, or maybe he thought you wouldn't say yes to dancing with me."

Not a lie, which was the best lie. She'd perfected the technique with Titus.

Titus scoffed, eyes picking her apart, but he continued walking, dropping the conversation.

Hermione wasn't sure if he believed her or not.

 A Proper Stance
Chapter Notes

Song Suggestion: Jome- "Cinnamon"

A/N: I threw in a Prince of Egypt Easter Egg. Tell me if you find it.

Thank you to MyPrivateInsanity for taking my trash first draft and turning it into a
treasure!

A Proper Stance

Early in March, a ferocious Eurasian eagle owl delivered a giant scroll. It harassed the elves until
Tabitha gave it two raw chicken legs before flying away. Titus intercepted the scroll, and after a
few days, he handed it over with a grimace, as if the very act cut something inside him. Hermione
attempted to control her excitement, but as she got close to her room, she broke into a run,
catapulted onto her bed, and then unrolled the scroll from Draco.

I have a list of questions for you to answer. Beside them, I've listed my preferences. I think
this is the best way to get to know one another.

1. How do you prefer your tea? I only like hot cocoa. I drink it every night, even in the
summer.

2.Favourite colour? Regrettably, mine is red. I know— it's embarrassing. I refuse to wear it
in case someone mistakes me for one of those moronic imbeciles that wear the colour proudly
(Potter). Your brother needs to reevaluate his friendships.

3.Do you have any pets? We have a whole stable of horses. My favourite is a black stallion
named Anubis. In France, my father has a Pegasus—though he hasn't let me ride it yet. We
also have peacocks, but I hate the little shites. Especially Alfred. I'd recommend not trying to
pet him, because he has a taste for blood. After trying to maul me, I promised to cook him
into a stew, but father forbade me from murdering the bird. I'm not sure why. He doesn't
contribute anything to the manor.

4…

The letter went on for thirty-six inches of questions. When Titus asked what she thought of the
letter, she shrugged, attempting to prove she didn't care about it, but she kept it hidden under her
pillow. At night, she'd pull it out to run her fingers along the ink. Titus said he'd let her respond
after a few months. As he put it, "We'll keep him in suspense."
Close to summer, Hemione was sitting by the pond with Katie and Julie after their lessons, when
she noticed Dean and Finch had been missing for an hour.

"Do you think they went inside for a snack?" Despite constantly eating, Finch remained skeletal.

"I don't know." Katie leaned back on a blanket they brought outside, closing her eyes in the
sunshine. "I'm staying here though. I've missed the sun."

"Me too," Julie said.

Hermione got up without them. She searched the grounds and the manor without luck. The
treehouse was the last place she looked. When she went up the bucket rope, peeking over the edge,
she almost let out a gasp.

Dean pressed tight against Finch on the couch, mouth attached in a deep kiss. Both of them had
removed their shirts, and Dean had a hand down the front of Finch's trousers.

Finch moaned, and Hermione gave a squeak of surprise. At the noise, the two boys scrambled
apart, wide-eyed, while Finch adjusted his trousers. Before he tugged on his shirt, she saw twisting
scars down Finch's back— tangles of mutilated skin. Some of them looked like burn marks.

"Oh Merlin!" Hermione wished to melt into the ground. "I— I'm sorry. I'll just—"

She made to leave, cheeks red and hot with embarrassment, but Dean stopped her.

"Wait, Hermione," he said. "Let me explain."

"It's okay."

"No, please, come in and sit down."

Hermione climbed inside and awkwardly made her way to the far side of the treehouse, sitting in
one of the smaller chairs. All three of them looked like they might die from the tension. Finally,
Hermione decided to speak.

"So… how long have you two—" she motioned to them.

Dean grabbed the end of the couch in a tight hold as he answered.

"Just for a few months."

"I won't tell anyone, if that's what you're worried about," Hermione said. "I promise— well, unless
you want me to."

Finch sighed with relief.

"We plan on telling Katie and Julie one day, but this is new."

"I didn't know two boys could… kiss." They'd been doing much more than that, but she wanted to
minimise the embarrassment.

"It's not something we planned. It just happened," Finch said. "Two girls can be together as well.
At least, I assume they can."

The three of them blushed at the same time.

"Titus knows," Dean said.

Hermione's eyes widened. If Titus discovered she'd kissed Draco, "angry" would be a tame word to
describe his reaction.

"Is he okay with it?"

"I guess so," Dean said. "Titus told us we'd have to stop coming to the lessons. He said we were
getting old enough that we might have… urges. So I just blurted out on accident that I only liked
Finch. He made us take Veritaserum to make sure we weren't lying about our feelings for each
other. I thought we'd get in trouble, but he just said we could come back the next day."

As he spoke, Hermione realised something.

"But what about when you have to be with Pansy and Daphne?"

The Greengrass and Parkinson families already gave their masters a down payment, Finch for
Daphne and Dean for Pansy. Women didn't have to participate in the Trials like the men. It was
treated as a transaction, bought and sold, used as a last resort for families with no male heirs.

It felt wrong—even more wrong than the Trials—but she couldn't verbalise why. It just rested
heavily inside her stomach, a new weight she didn't know how to dislodge.

Harry's parents had been married before the Trials began. She'd always assumed his mum, even as
a muggleborn, had somehow been given to Mr. Potter in an arranged marriage according to
Pureblood tradition, but after discussing it with Theo, she learned that Lily had chosen Mr. Potter.

She chose him.

The very idea rocked something in Hermione's head. A choice. The thought bothered her so much
that one day she braved asking Titus why she couldn't just choose her wizard - why bother going
through the Trials? He'd said it was the law, and just the way things were, though he seemed
uncomfortable with the topic.

A part of her agreed with him: she generally liked to follow rules. But the other part, the secret part
inside her, stewed in bitterness. She felt like something had been stolen out from under her nose
without her knowing, and she'd just now noticed the loss. But Hermione didn't quite know what
had been stolen in the first place.

Dean grimaced at her question.

"We'll have to do our duty somehow, but I'm not looking forward to it."

Hermione nodded, but her heart filled with worry for her friends.

"I guess it won't matter if you two are together now since there's no worry of babies."

Again, she blushed at the thought, wishing she'd just kept her mouth shut.

"Yeah," they both answered.

Earlier in the year, Katie had told her the true process of sex. A man put his penis inside a woman
and moved until something came out. From that, a baby was made. It made sense, but she still
wished to have a book to study the process more.

If the boys couldn't manage to give the purebloods an heir, especially a male heir, they'd probably
be sent to the muggleborn camps outside Knockturn Alley, and then they'd only be able to get
menial jobs.

"I'm glad you found each other before—" Hermione didn't want to finish. Both the boys stared at
the ground. "Anyway, if you want time together in the future, just give me a wink, and I'll cover
for you."

Dean beamed. He looked incredibly relieved.

"Thanks, Hermione."

Hermione grit her teeth, gearing up for the last question, not sure if she wanted the answer.

"Finch?"

"Yeah?"

"What caused those scars on your back?"

Dean and Finch glanced at each other. Obviously, they'd already discussed it.

"Vincent doesn't like me much," Finch said carefully.

Her heart stopped in her chest.

"Vincent did that to you?" Her shock turned to anger. "Have you told anyone? I could get Titus
to–"

"No, Hermione, stop," Dean said. "They won't do anything."

"What do you mean they won't do anything? He's being hurt and—"

"I'm saying there's no legal way to help him. Titus couldn't do anything, even if you begged him,
and it might make it worse. As long as—" Dean sucked in a breath. "As long as his ability to
produce children isn't harmed, or he isn't injured seriously, they can hurt him as much as they want
to."

Hermione's stomach clenched. She reached out blindly, grasping at the small table beside her for
stability. Her anger coursed through her. Her eyes burned with unshed tears. She knew how Titus
treated her was unusual among the purebloods, but she always thought physical abuse was off-
limits. Katie had a decent relationship with her masters — at least, they never hit her. Dean's
master allowed him some liberties, like flying and attending the school. And Bellatrix would fillet
someone and eat them for dinner if they ever hurt Julie.

All this time, Finch had never told her of his pain. He'd made references about Vincent being cruel,
but he'd gloss over it.

"I'm sorry," Hermione managed to say. The words felt stale in her mouth, but she didn't know what
else to do.

They spent the rest of the time that day in mutual silence, thinking of the inevitable future.

Theo had almost failed Potions and Defence Against the Dark Arts, so Hermione spent most of the
summer sitting over a simmering cauldron with him as he bemoaned his punishment of continued
summer lessons.
"You're slicing it in thirds, when it's supposed to be in fourths," Hermione reminded.

Theo ignored her.

"Well, don't get mad at me when you turn purple after testing it," Hermione said. "Titus will just
make you do it again."

Theo pointed his knife at her, sweat beading on his forehead.

"You don't have to be here, you know. Go bother Bitty or something."

Hermione rolled her eyes.

"But it's fun bothering you." She hopped up on the table next to him, swinging her legs. She picked
up the potions book and read through a few pages. The tutors assigned to their muggleborn school
didn't teach advanced spells or transfiguration, but they did teach basic charms and potions, along
with ancient runes, care of magical creatures, and arithmancy. The tutors gave them a ministry-
approved generic wand after Christmas break, and Hermione had to pretend to struggle along with
the others. In private, she practised the more advanced curriculum Titus gave her. It frustrated her,
because ever since he'd gotten her a wand, he restricted her access to some of the library books
with information on dark spells, advanced theories, and wandless magic. When she reached for
those books, her hand went straight through, leaving her with limited options for education.

Her wandless magic stagnated, much like Lucius predicted, though she didn't understand why. She
could still perform the spells on her curriculum without a wand, but they weren't as powerful. A
magical theory could probably explain it, but she now had no way to solve the mystery. She
needed more than what she was allowed. The thirst slicked down her throat into her belly, turning
into a ravenous hunger.

Hermione stared at Theo as he began slicing the newt tail in fourths, and an idea came to her. Titus
would get angry if he found out, but she needed a training partner for duelling, and she trusted no
one else to keep the secret. Theo could also benefit from the practice. They could help each other.

"Theo, when you finish, let's do something different." She grinned at him. "Though you have to
promise not to tell anyone, especially Titus."

Theo looked up and pointed the knife in her direction again.

"That's what you always say right before we get into massive trouble."

"Do you want to know my plan or not?"

He gave a deep sigh.

"Fine." He pushed up his glasses. "Just give me a minute before I do the thing you want me to do
that I know I'll regret."

"Perfect." She jumped off the table. "Meet me in the duelling room."

"Duelling room!" Theo yelled out, but she was already walking out. "Wait, come back Hermione.
What are we doing in the duelling room?"

Theo stood across from her with a scowl on his face. She held her wand—her real wand—out for
him to see.
"I can't believe you never told me."

For once, Hermione felt ashamed. She'd hated keeping it a secret.

"I was sworn to secrecy," Hermione said.

"As if that has ever stopped you before."

"I was going to tell you eventually, but I didn't want to write about it in a letter, and the only time I
saw you in person was the Yule Ball, Christmas, and Easter. There was too much going on."

Theo's hazel eyes narrowed on her in thought.

"Show me."

She did a simple lumos just to prove she could. And then she did more complicated spells, the last
transfiguring a stick into a wooden snake that slithered along the floor—something she'd learned
from a few pages of old class notes she'd stolen from Theo.

"Well, now you're just showing off."

They grinned at each other, and then he frowned.

"The official story with the kidnapping isn't true, is it?"

"I used my magic," she admitted. "I didn't win, though. He would have killed me if it wasn't for
Lucius."

Theo seemed to be thinking.

"I guess that explains why Titus accepted Draco's token. That always confused me. I figured
Lucius had something over him. Only a Malfoy would dare to blackmail Titus that way."

"It worked."

"For now," Theo warned. "Titus doesn't want Draco to win you, even if you like him. So I wouldn't
get intimate with the idea of Draco as your wizard. Titus will find a way for him to lose." Theo
levelled her with a look that looked both worried and accusing.

"You want me with Viktor anyway."

"True." He grinned. "Though I don't want you to move to Bulgaria. Maybe we can convince their
government to allow a special portkey for us."

The thought of the future brought about a sharp discomfort. It always seemed so far away, but she
turned sixteen in September. In two years, Titus could decide to start the Trials. Her nightmares
became a different sort of panic: four walls closing in, squeezing tighter and tighter until nothing
remained of her soul.

Hermione outstretched her wand toward Theo.

"Do you want to practise duelling or not? Based on your marks, you need a lot of help."

"You're rather cheeky for a beginner."

"We'll see." She smiled and flung her first curse, and Theo blocked it.
Later, her chest felt both tight and lighter, as if she'd had a good workout, muscles sore. Her magic
flexed inside her, grateful to finally be challenged.

Malfoy,

1. I prefer pumpkin juice to tea. Sometimes I like coffee, but only without sugar or milk.
According to Theo, that makes me a psychopath, though that's up for interpretation.
Drinking hot cocoa during the summer might qualify you as a psychopath as well. It's
something to think about.

2. My favourite colour is black. It has a bad reputation for no reason, always associated with
death, but it's the colour of outer space and onyx and ink—some of my favourite things. Also,
red is a great colour. You shouldn't be ashamed of it. But I may be biased because I'm one
hundred percent a Gryffindor.

3. I don't have any pets. Titus doesn't want another living thing to worry about. I've
attempted to catch a gnome to stay in my treehouse, but they're quick when they want to be. I
also have a collection of bugs from my friend Finch, but I've never liked them like he does.
Maybe one day I can convince Titus to get me a cat.

4…

She wrote thirty-two inches on the scroll before sending it to Titus to approve. She hoped Malfoy
briefly choked on his hot cocoa when he discovered she was a Gryffindor.

Hermione spent the rest of the summer practising with Theo. She never went without her wand in
the duelling room, but at night, she practised without it, moving objects with intention, attempting
to strengthen her wandless magic. She'd end in a sweaty mess from the simplest task. After several
months of obsessive practice, she managed to do most of the spells on the curriculum without her
wand, but she still wasn't at the level she wanted to be.

When Theo left back to Hogwarts for his fifth year, Hermione almost lived in the duelling room
after school. A dummy that absorbed spells was her opponent. She'd take her position, bow low,
and then go through her litany of spells until she tired.

One day— after sending a strong Incarcerous—Hermione heard clapping. She looked up to find
Titus resting against the doorway to the room with a sly smile.

"I see you finally told Theo." He walked forward, and Hermione lowered her wand. "It took much
longer than I thought it would."

"How did you find out?"

"Those spells are not on the approved curriculum."

She tensed, unsure if she'd get in trouble or not.

"How long have you known?"

"Most of the summer," he admitted. "If I was opposed to it, the duelling sessions would have
stopped in June." He reached in his pocket and took out his own wand. It had a slight curve to the
side and a gnarled center. Titus was ambidextrous with his spell casting, able to fling curses in
unexpected ways, and his reflexes remained unmatched among his peers. "Theo doesn't know any
spells I'd disapprove of you learning." He stood next to her. "But your stance needs work."

"Oh," Hermione said, surprised. He usually avoided any conversation pertaining to spells, magic,
or duelling. Out of sight, out of mind. He always stared at her wand with a pensive expression, as if
it might turn into an animal and bite him.

"Flex your knees, like this." He bent his knees, and she attempted to copy him. "Looser, not so
tight. Shift your weight as you cast. Try not to always step forward on the same side you cast. It
makes you predictable."

She tried until she got the bend in her knees correct and the shift and slight twist of the pelvis to
make the aim truer when flinging a curse. He then attempted to show her how to curve the
trajectory of a spell. That took more work, but after an hour she managed to do it once, though her
aim left much to be desired.

Completely exhausted, she wiped the sweat off her brow with the edge of her sleeve. Even though
Titus cast just as much as she did, he didn't even look winded. He rarely missed—a perfect shot
each time. She could see how he'd be a formidable opponent.

"Thanks for helping me," she said.

"I couldn't have you copying Theo's terrible stance. We have the Nott image to uphold." He
stopped, suddenly serious. "Tell me the truth, and I won't stop the duelling practice— what's your
motivation?"

Hermione tried to formulate her thoughts, unsure herself. She didn't know where the obsessive
desire for knowledge and magic stemmed from.

"I don't want to be caught off guard again," she said. "If the Order—or anyone else—tries to take
me, I'd like to kill them myself."

Titus still wore a serious frown, but he sighed, as if giving up.

"I'll give you a more advanced curriculum soon. I can tell you're bored with the previous one. To be
honest, you probably already knew it all before I gave you the list. By this point, you could
probably do most of those beginner spells wandless."

"Almost all," she admitted.

He shook his head in amusement, but she caught a moment of hesitancy. Hermione wondered what
he was worried about. She'd never use the spells against him. Why keep her magic subdued?

A question had been gnawing at her for months. She'd at first tried to dismiss it, but it tumbled out
of her.

"If I asked you a question, would you tell me the truth?"

"If I'm able to. What's bothering you?"

"When I was in Knockturn Alley, I saw… I saw the older muggleborns. Why do they live like that
—dirty and without food?"

He searched her expression, as if digging for clues.

"They refuse to work, Sprite," he said carefully. "We've offered them jobs, but they will not take
them. They prefer to live that way." His hand clenched. "Everyone must contribute in some way to
society if they can. Don't you agree?"

Hermione hesitated.

"Yes, but—"

"I can't change their circumstance. This world is full of problems, and I can't solve them all." He
stepped closer to her. "There are plenty of muggleborns who are happy, working at various
businesses or pureblood estates. The group you encountered has eschewed help from authorities. I
won't allow you to end up like that, if that's what you're concerned about. If the man that wins you
in the Trials doesn't treat you in the way that you deserve, I will march into his home and steal you
back. Do you understand? You don't need to worry."

Something unravelled in her, as if he'd pulled a string she didn't realise she carried coiled in her
heart. She allowed herself to breathe a sigh of relief.

"Can I ask you another question?"

"Only one more," he teased.

"When Viktor danced with me, he said—well, he called you the Butcher of Manchester."

Titus' shoulders stiffened.

"Did he now?"

Hermione refused to fidget under his hard stare like she wished. Instead, she straightened.

"Why would he call you that?"

Titus didn't answer right away. His jaw clenched, and he glanced out the window.

"It's what the muggles call me," he confessed in a quiet voice. "Several foreign countries use the
title as well, including the Americans."

Hermione's stomach dropped. Her mouth went dry.

The Butcher.

"But you—"

"It's not an exaggeration."

Hermione paused, not expecting that. She blinked a few times in dismay.

"What do you mean?" Her voice sounded small in her throat.

"Don't act surprised I've killed people, Sprite. You've always known my work requires me to arrest
Order members. It's dangerous work, and sometimes it requires me to take a life."

She did know that, but she always thought it resembled justice. The name "Butcher" suggested
cruelty, something she found hard to see in him.

He sighed heavily, noticing her troubled expression.

"Two months after the Order attempted to kidnap you, I managed to find their base in Manchester."
His eyes became unfocused, as if reliving the memory. "I caught fifty-two rebels—the largest
amount found in years."

Hermione kept her whole body still as Titus paused, not wanting him to stop. He didn't always
answer her questions like this.

"What happened?"

"In previous years, I might have executed the leaders and sent the rest to labour camps, but they
needed to be taught a lesson." He pocketed his gnarled, curved wand. "I executed them publicly,
and then butchered them into pieces, hanging their remains along the main streets of the city. As a
warning to the Order, I let the corpses rot for days, and if anyone was caught gathering the pieces,
they were punished." He walked forward and grabbed her stiff shoulders, knowing this unsettled
her. He leaned down so they were on the same level. "They now know the consequences for trying
to take you from me. If they do it again, I'll butcher a hundred, and I refuse to feel sorry for that."

She didn't know if that comforted or disturbed her. Were the Order members criminals, deserving
of their fate? Or were they victims? The questions swirled in her mind without answers. He gave
one more squeeze to her shoulders and then let her go, walking toward the door. A teasing grin
tilted the edge of his lips up.

"Keep working on your duelling stance, Sprite. It's only slightly better than Theo's."
 The Coven of the Tree
Chapter Notes

Song Suggestion: Raury- "God's Whisper"

Thank you to by Beta, MyPrivateInsanity, for helping with this chapter, despite her
having a rough week. Forever grateful!

Best comment award: He's a Ten, but he's the Butcher of Manchester (FFN). Literally
spit out my drink. Y'all make me laugh.

See the end of the chapter for more notes

The Coven of the Tree

After Christmas break, Hermione entered her classroom in the manor to find a stranger sitting
behind the professor's desk. His robes were old-fashioned, with the traditional hat and a dark blond
beard that reached his stomach.

"Hello," he said, letting his reading glasses dip down his nose as he peered over them at her. It was
an odd look, she thought, as if she was someone he hadn't seen in a long time. Slowly, he closed his
book and stood up. "My name is Gideon Booth. I'll be your new professor."

"What happened to Professor Crawford?" Her most recent tutor was so old he barely knew what
was going on around him. They often had to remind him to stay on task, as he tended to veer off
into stories, staring at the wall, forgetting where he was.

"Retirement, if you can believe it."

A joke. Hermione smiled, already liking the man.

The studies that day focused on Care of Magical Creatures. He brought out a Puffskein, much to
the delight of Julie, who squealed when she saw it. And then a Bowtruckle, a magical insect
resembling a branch on a tree. Finch nearly fainted in excitement.

Later in the day, as she worked on her essay, the back of her neck prickled as if she was being
watched, but each time she glanced up, her professor's eyes were trained on the chalkboard. She
brushed off the feeling, sure she was imagining things.

But then, after class, Professor Booth stopped her on the way to the treehouse. Her friends had
already gone out the door.

"A moment, Miss Hermione."

A bead of sweat ran down the side of his face, and he adjusted his robes. Nott manor struggled
with ventilation, even with charms, but it wasn't hot enough to produce that reaction.

"I've come to understand that you know most of what I'm teaching, so I've prepared a separate
lesson to challenge you. The content has already been approved by your master, of course."
Professor Booth brought out two heavy books from his satchel and placed them on his desk.
Achievements in Charming and A Comprehensive History of Ancient Britannia. She placed her
fingers on one of the titles.

"I'm afraid I've read these already."

"Is that so? Well, regardless, I'd like you to read the first chapter of each tonight."

"I don't—"

"I insist."

A little annoyed, Hermione picked up the books and clutched them to her chest. The professor
relaxed into his chair and gave her the same odd stare as she walked out.

Later that night, Hermione sat in her bed. She didn't want to read the same information twice, but
he'd been insistent, so she picked up the book on charms and opened it.

It wasn't about charms.

Hermione flipped through the pages, finding numbers and formulas. It resembled arithmancy, but it
used symbols she'd never seen before. Of course, she already knew addition, subtraction,
multiplication, and division, but this… she'd never seen anything like it.

All at once, Hermione understood— muggle mathematics.

Instinct made her slam the illegal book shut in panic, but curiosity caused her to pick up the second
book.

Instead of numbers, it showcased odd pictures. She didn't stop long enough to read the
descriptions.

Dean had been nine when he'd been found. For the two years prior, he had attended an illegal
muggle school, where they learned about things called cells and atoms and germs. He'd tried to
explain it once. From what little she knew, the magical world studied some of the same things as
muggles, especially for spell creation, advanced transfiguration, and healing. But they were
considered specialised studies and not something approved for muggleborns.

Maybe if she learned muggle mathematics and science, she could study higher forms of magic
when the opportunity arose.

The thought sent a buzzing excitement through her.

She flipped the book shut, heart pounding.

But why did Professor Booth sneak her a muggle mathematics and science book?

Whatever the reason, Titus certainly had not approved the content of this lesson. He hated anything
muggle, especially their gadgets. He blamed his parents' deaths on them. Somehow, the professor
snuck the books inside the manor right under his nose. If Hermione were a more obedient person,
she'd tell Titus about the book.

Booth could be like Ollivander—a wizard she suspected didn't believe muggleborns should be
denied knowledge or magic—but he also might be a member of the Order, attempting to earn her
trust just to snatch her away.
Hermione chewed on her lip in indecision. The thought of giving up new knowledge made her
shudder. She'd rather chop off a limb.

For whatever reason, Professor Booth decided to risk Azkaban to give her forbidden knowledge.

What could it hurt to read them? Why did it matter whether she learned about muggle things? It's
not as if she'd ever use it.

And maybe he'd give her more books…

It made her uneasy and wary of her new professor, but with a nod of her head, she made her
decision. She cracked open the science book again and began to read.

Professor Booth had been standing in front of the chalkboard, engrossed in writing, when she
entered the classroom.

When he noticed her, his chalk stopped with a small screech. A muscle twitched in his jaw, and his
hand jerked once—the only sign of his nerves.

"Did you read the first chapters in the books I gave you?" He asked.

The question hung heavy between them. She had three choices.

One: tell Titus and have her new teacher carted off to Azkaban. She'd also need to give up her new
books, so she liked this option the least.

Two: Keep the books, but figure out why Professor Booth wanted to give them to her in the first
place. But then he might not want to give her another one. Maybe he'd think it posed too much of a
risk and quit. This scenario didn't appeal to her ethier.

Three: Let him keep his secrets, read the books he gave her, and possibly get more in the future.

Really, it wasn't a hard choice at all.

"I did," she said. "The content was… fascinating."

A slow grin grew on Professor Booth's face, so wide it showed his teeth.

"I thought you'd see the value in rereading," he said. "When you finish them, I have others I think
you might find interesting too."

"I'd like that very much." Hermione walked to her seat, brushing aside a sudden odd guilt, knowing
that, once again, she betrayed Titus' trust.

In the Spring, after her friends went home, Hermione retreated to her room, pulling out her wand
and the spell parchments Titus gave her.

The first list only had simple spells, like Alohomora, Accio, and Lumos—along with harmless little
incantations and a few prank hexes. Titus made notes in the margins that he wanted her to practise
the prank hexes on Theo. She imagined he grinned when he wrote it.

The new set of spells proved more difficult, but still relatively harmless. They tended to be the
opposite of the first list. Depulso, for instance, was the counter-charm to Accio. It took three tries
for Hermione to succeed, shoving a book across the room. Reducio came next, a foil to Engorgio.
Still, Hermione found it too easy.

She remembered Dumbledore's duel, the spells curving like whips, electrifying the air.

She wished to know how to truly duel, not just produce a Protego. The only duelling curses she
knew were Reducto, Petrificus Totalus, and Expelliarmus, and even those she'd not yet fully
mastered. She'd win a duel if she surprised someone, but not a wizard with a basic Hogwarts
education, and certainly not the Order.

Hermione took a breath, looking around. Titus would be gone for several hours still. Tabitha and
the elves were working on the front garden. No one would be home.

She went to her closet and wiggled loose a floorboard, a hiding spot she'd found long ago. It served
her well for little things she snagged here or there: pieces of discarded homework from Theo, a
missive with spells documented on it that Titus had thrown in the bin. But her most important
treasure barely fit in her cache. Hermione reached in and took out the spell book, which rested on
top of her muggle books. She'd found it in the old quidditch storage room. Made in the mid-1800's,
it stayed pristine because of several preservation spells. At one point long ago, a Nott ancestor left
his Advanced Defence Against the Dark Arts spell book behind for a quidditch game. To
Hermione, it proved more precious than gold.

She pulled it out and sniffed the dusty pages, the spine creaking as she opened it.

Taking out her wand, she gave practice strokes in the air for an advanced defensive charm labelled
Expecto Patronum. It repelled Dementors with a spirit familiar, springing from good thoughts, and
could be used to send messages without owls. Not that she ever thought she'd need to repel a
Dementor, but a person never knew when something could prove useful. After sufficient practice
at that, she read the movements for Oculus Lacrimam, a spell that ripped an opponent's eyeballs
out. She doubted they still taught the gruesome spell, mostly because it required too many swishes
of a wand to be effective in battle.

She was so focused on her studies that she didn't notice the door opening until she heard a gasp.
Looking up, she saw Julie frozen in the doorway. Hermione lunged for her friend, tugging her
inside and shutting the door.

"That's a wand," Julie said in a soft voice. "A real wand."

"What are you doing here?"

Julie shook her head to orient herself.

"Titus wanted to talk to dad. He said it was okay if I came back to find you."

Hermione's heart rate slowed down.

"Please don't tell," Hermione said. "I promise I'm allowed to have it. Titus gave it to me."

"Why would he do that? He'd get in so much trouble with the ministry."

Hermione hesitated and looked at her friend's wide eyes. Delicate freckles dotted around her body,
making her look younger. She'd always been the smallest out of them even though she was the
oldest, eighteen already. She only came to the lessons because Bellatrix insisted, and no one was
dumb enough to challenge that.

Out of everyone in the world, she trusted Julie with her secrets.
"You have to pinky promise not to tell anyone."

Dean showed them how to do the muggle promise on his second day of lessons. To their small
group, it was sacred— an ode to their shared past. No one broke the pinky promise.

"Pinky promise," Julie agreed. She reached out her little finger, and Hermione looped hers around
it— a solemn vow.

When they broke apart, Hermione lifted her hand and twisted. The candle on the side of her bed lit
up into a single quivering flame.

Julie gasped.

"Wandless magic!" She searched Hermione's expression and laid her hand on Hermione's wrist, as
if acknowledging the risk. "I won't tell a soul."

"They got me a wand because the ministry ones would be too weak, and my magic could go bad
inside me."

Julie's eyes crinkled in concern.

"Did he give you that spell book too?"

Hermione looked down at the book in her hand.

"No, Titus gave me a curriculum, but I find it… boring. He restricts the books I can read, and it's
making me go spare. I found this one and hid it."

"The spells in that book are for fighting."

"Yeah," Hermione admitted, unsure how gentle, pure, sweet Julie would feel about her learning
serious duelling curses, some of them bordering on dark.

But the look she gave her surprised Hermione. It edged on hunger— the same hunger she felt—
eyes shining with excitement.

"Would you be able to teach me?"

"Spells?"

"Wandless magic."

"I don't know. I'm not sure if it can be taught or not, but I think… well, I think I could teach you
normal spells. The ones the ministry want you to learn are stupid. What's the point of cleaning and
cooking spells when we won't ever use them? You don't have a wand, but we could probably
practise the movements with sticks, since the ministry ones might record it if you actually
produced magic."

Julie kept her eyes on the wand.

"I don't want to learn fighting spells, but… there's something missing in me. The ministry wands
help, but it's painful. The magic in me wants to be used. It's like they're keeping us hobbled, but I
don't understand why."

An idea came to Hermione then—a dangerous, rebellious, subversive idea. It didn't stem from
wanting to disobey Titus, but she'd never been one to follow rules if her heart told her different. If
they were discovered, the consequences might be severe. But magic was as essential to her as water
and food, and the more she used it, the bigger space it took up in her soul. Denying muggleborns
magic was wrong. She'd felt it even as a child. It was the only thing she really disagreed with Titus
on.

"Maybe I can teach all of you."

Julie put the edge of her thumb in her mouth, nibbling on her thumbnail, something she often did
when anxious, which was most of the time. But after a few minutes of contemplation, she smiled.

"We could be our own coven."

Hermione's whole body erupted into goosebumps.

"Tomorrow, in the treehouse."

Julie nodded, and Hermione showed her how to do simple spells until her master called her away.

The next day after lessons, they all climbed into the treehouse.

When Julie first started lessons, everything terrified her, but she'd grown much braver— at least
brave enough to go up the bucket rope. She still stayed far away from nature, and if she did go out,
she used bug repellent. Finch liked to tease her with frogs and jumping spiders, making her screech
each time.

When she crawled up and panted against the wood, everyone gave playful claps.

"Shut up." She groaned and rolled over. "I made it, didn't I?."

Hermione used the moment to pull out her wand. Before the others could comment, she sealed the
treehouse, darkening the windows. She placed a candle before her, and with a wave of her hand,
the wick caught on fire. In the flickering candlelight, she saw all of their surprised faces.

"Did you just do magic?" Dean asked. "Like real magic? With a wand?"

"Yes."

"She wants to teach us," Julie said.

"But we don't have wands," Finch said with a frown. "Not real ones." He stared at her wand with
raw jealousy.

"Not yet," Hermione said. "But I'm working on a plan to get them for you."

Hermione launched into the same story she told Julie, from start to finish, from her late-night
practice sessions to her near kidnapping. And then the conversation with Lucius and choosing her
wand.

"Ollivander said some strange things." Hermione looked at her wand in contemplation. "I think— I
think he wants muggleborns to have wands. Maybe if we asked, he'd give them to you. I haven't
figured out how to get them yet."

The trepidation turned to excitement. She passed her wand around. It let out jagged blue sparks
when Katie clutched it, and they all laughed.
"This needs to be kept secret," she said. "If I teach you magic, you absolutely can't get caught, or
we'll probably never get to see each other again. We all need to agree, understanding the risks, or
we can't do it."

They glanced at each other, fearful once again. The thought of ending their lessons clenched her
heart. She didn't know if she could have survived the manor all these years— lonely and bored—
without them. Theo was her brother, but he didn't understand what it meant to be a muggleborn.
Katie, Julie, Dean, and Finch were more than siblings. They had the same beating heart. They all
faced the same fate, the same sacrifices and fears. They were all denied the same things, scraping
magical leftovers off nearly empty plates to satisfy the starvation.

"I'm in," Katie said.

"Me too." Dean gave a fierce smile.

"I'll do whatever you guys do. I'd never tell a soul. Even if I was caught, I'd never betray any of
you." Finch's eyes looked suspiciously red, as if he might cry.

"You already know my answer," Julie said.

Hermione shivered with the danger of what they did, but it didn't stem from fear. A thrilling zip of
energy, similar to magic, erupted in her veins.

"Perfect," she said. She grabbed the bag she'd brought up, took out four sticks she'd found— as
straight and strong as she could find— and passed them out. "Until we can get proper wands, we
can practice the movements and words."

She pulled out the first curriculum Titus gave her. Raising her head, she met the eager eyes of her
friends. They already held the sticks aloft. The energy shifted into something with gravity. It
tugged them all into sudden orbit, spinning around each other.

"We're the Coven of the Tree," Julie whispered. It was a stupid, ridiculous name, but no one
laughed.

Hermione brought up her wand.

"The first charm we'll learn is Alohomora. It's used to unlock doors, though it's useless against
wards."

"Alohomora," her friends repeated, copying her movements.

They practised until perfection.

Right before Theo went back to Hogwarts for his seventh and final year, Hermione had him against
the wall with her wand at his neck.

"What did you promise him?" she demanded.

"You don't have to do it." Theo reached up and shoved the wand aside, knowing she wouldn't harm
him even if she really, really, really wanted to. "I didn't promise him anything. He just presented
the offer, and I said I'd ask you. I thought— well, I thought you'd want to. You wore that stupid
smile after the astronomy tower. I just assumed—"

"You just assumed I'd sell him a few kisses, so you'd get a spot on the team."
"Merlin, Hermione, forget I said anything. You know I didn't sell your kisses. He just wants some
time alone again. He said if you agreed, he'd let me be a chaser." He looked at her with his stupid
pleading eyes, barely blinking his long eyelashes. "Please, Hermione. It's my last year to get on the
team. He just wants thirty minutes after each game to have a date."

"What's a date?"

Theo shrugged.

"Just food, snacks. Something to do. It's not serious."

Hermione rolled her eyes. She doubted Draco had innocent endeavours in mind. It should disgust
her, but the thought lit a fire under her skin, almost painful.

She still felt his lips on hers. How he dipped down, brushing his mouth against her neck. She
wanted to experience it again, despite her protests. Wanted something she didn't have a name for,
but that Draco offered to provide.

"Alright." She found it hard to contain her grin. "I'll do it, but it will be on your head if we're
caught."

Theo grimaced but nodded. A year of quidditch was apparently worth the risk of possible
disembowelment.

Theo leaned over and gave a kiss to her cheek.

"If he tries to push you to do things you're not comfortable with, the deal will end. I'd rather give up
quidditch forever if it meant keeping you safe. Only do this if you want time with him."

Hermione paused.

"Why are you okay with me being alone with Draco?"

Theo looked introspective.

"I just— I think you deserve to date a boy you like, a boy you choose, before—before—"

Before I have to live with a man I have no choice in. A familiar burning started behind her eyes.

"Thanks, Theo."

He gave her a fierce hug, showing her his love.

Later, she lay in bed, thinking of Draco and wondering what it would feel like for his hands to trail
down her back the way she saw Titus do to a woman who came over last year. She'd accidently
watched as they began to kiss. He'd led the woman backward into his room, pulled her legs up to
wrap around his waist, and pushed her dress up with his hands on her thighs, slamming the door
behind him. It replayed in her mind sometimes at night, and she imagined herself with different
people, but most often with Draco.

In the past year, the fluttering feelings began to get intense, a pain low in her belly. Often it started
while watching Titus practice duelling. He'd shed his outer robes, leaving his chest bare. By the
end, sweat dripped down the hard planes of his chest.

She'd never seen anyone as fast as him with a wand. He wasn't the most powerful, but he'd curse
before his opponent could think of what to cast. It looked like dancing when he was in full training
mode: twirl, duck, lunge, with his face set in a dark scowl, as if imagining the Order in front of
him.

By the end, she'd always travel back to her room, body tingling. She'd lay in her bed in agony,
giving a tempered scream of frustration. Her body needed something, raw with nerves, but she
didn't know what or how to make it better.

One day she pressed the skin under her knickers by accident, and a jolt of pleasure went through
her. A moment later, she put her hand down as an experiment, trying again. The pleasure arrived a
second time, more intense. It felt wrong, dirty. Why was she touching herself down there? But she
couldn't stop, chasing the sudden sharp release that happened if she did it enough, followed by a
relaxed, pleasant state. She'd do this almost every night, addicted to the feeling. She suspected it
mimicked sex. Hermione couldn't find books on it anywhere in the library, but Katie told her
enough, and her imagination filled in the rest.

Theo was right. She deserved to be kissed. Deserved to be touched by choice.

And she refused to wait until the Trials.

In September, her muggleborn friends arrived for her eighteenth birthday party. Tabitha made a
delicious cake, and the elves created edible flowers sprouting along the icing. After food and cake,
her friends went home, excited for the weekend to be over to see each other again.

Much later, she sat in front of the fireplace on a couch next to Titus to open gifts. She unwrapped a
new dress from Julie, a chilled cauldron cake from Dean, a bookmark charmed to look up
definitions on command from Katie, and a book on entomology from Finch.

"Here's Theo's present. He sent it with an owl yesterday." Titus pushed a package into her hands,
and she opened the blue fabric eagerly.

"Hogwarts, a History," she said with a gasp. "And it's a first edition! How did he find one?"

Titus gave a sly grin, placing his arm along the back of the couch near her shoulder.

"A lot of sleuthing, some generous donations, and some unethical bribery."

Hermione looked up from her book.

"I hope you didn't spend too much on it."

"Too much? I'd package you the universe, if I could. You only need to ask."

The air felt different for some reason, and she couldn't define it. The fire burned hotter. She wished
to adjust the collar on her dress.

She looked up and met his eyes. He stared at her in a funny way, as if wrestling something in his
mind.

"I know you haven't been looking forward to today," he said.

Hermione looked back down. She picked at the fabric of her dress.

"No," she whispered. "I don't think I'm ready for the Trials."

"I don't think you are either."

The thought of a baby growing in her stomach only made her feel revulsion. Maybe someday she'd
want one, but she felt too young, too inexperienced.

"Can I ask you a favour?"

"Sure," Titus answered.

"I know I have to do my duty, and I will. I just—you told me once I wouldn't have to enter the
Trials until twenty-one. Could I wait until then? I don't want to leave yet."

Titus' gaze pierced her, pulling her apart.

"You might change your mind once all your friends go through it."

After the Trials, breeders weren't allowed to talk to unmatched muggleborns. Katie was supposed
to leave by Easter, and she wouldn't get to see her until she went through her own. Titus was right
—she'd be incredibly lonely.

"Maybe," she said. "But I'd still like the choice."

Titus reached out and grabbed one of her curls that stuck to the back of the couch. He picked it up
and examined it, giving a little twirl around his finger. Hermione froze, and then he dropped it,
standing up while shaking his head. He walked over and touched the fireplace mantle with a
sudden frown and then straightened. "I'm excited to see your face when you see the present I got
you. Follow me."

Hermione stood up and followed him back to her room. She raised an eyebrow at him when he
opened her door and ushered her inside.

On her bed, curled in a little orange ball, was a tiny kitten.

Everything inside Hermione melted at once.

"You got me a cat!"

She used to beg him for a pet, but he never budged on getting one.

"He's half-kneazle. A familiar. I know you were upset when I said you couldn't have an owl, so I
thought it might be nice to have something similar."

"What's his name?"

"The shopkeepers called him Crookshanks, but you can change his name, of course."

"No." Hermione walked over and picked up the creature. He cracked one eye open in annoyance,
looking like a grumpy old man. "No, I think he's perfect." She cuddled him close. "Truly, this is
the best present."

He gave a soft smile, eyes roving over her as she stood there cuddling her new kitten.

"Happy birthday." He moved to walk out but placed a hand on the doorframe. The Nott signet ring
clicked against the wood. "You don't need to worry."

"About what?"

"I promise I won't make you enter into the Trials until you feel more ready. You can wait until the
 last day possible, if you'd like. I certainly won't be complaining about keeping my Sprite a bit
longer."

For the first time all day, Hermione felt like she could take a breath.

The Coven of the Tree by Frau Blucher

Chapter End Notes

A/N: Now that she's of age for the trials, I'll soon start knocking down the dominos.
However, don't expect a quick change in Hermione. She's a young girl trapped in a
system rigged against her. Even though she's strong, she's just a normal teenager. She
doesn't know anything else besides this life. Even if she feels like something is wrong,
she doesn't know why it's wrong or how to stop it… yet.

Edit: from the comments from both platforms, I just want to assure everyone that we
did not skip the "date". Hermione turns 18 at the beginning of 7th year. In canon, she's
one of the oldest in her year. The quidditch games have yet to happen.
 Bee to a Flower
Chapter Notes

Song Suggestion: Christian French- "head first"

A/N: This is an epic length story where the world will reveal itself as it goes. Just
because I haven't touched on something does NOT mean I haven't thought of it. (I do
appreciate questions though, because occasionally they make me stop and think.) This
is a single pov fic, and Hermione only knows a small fraction of what is really going
on. So the "plot holes" will be filled when she exits her protected bubble.

I forgot to mention in the last update that the Prince of Egypt Easter Egg was the stick
turning into a snake.

I know JK created a typical quidditch schedule, but she flipped it around sometimes, so
I made my own. Also, in canon, Hermione turns 18 at the beginning of 7th year, so I
didn't skip anything. Enjoy!

Standing ovation for my beta, MyPrivateInsanity!

Grey clouds gathered above the quidditch pitch. Droplets of cold dew beaded on her skin as she
watched from the stands. Hermione tightened her scarf, attempting to block out the November
chill.

Players from both teams zoomed around the pitch, preparing for the game. The Slytherins were up
against the Hufflepuffs today. On the opposite side, a few of the players in yellow huddled in a
circle, discussing their strategies.

She found Theo first and waved; he looked nervous, hovering in one spot near the hoops. A flash
of platinum blond hair rocketed by the stands, and Hermione watched Draco perform several
daring flips and rolls right in front of her. Her heart beat pathetically fast in her chest. If she thought
he looked handsome in dress robes, it paled in comparison to his quidditch uniform. He looked
natural on a broom, as if born to the rigours of flying. After a minute of inspection, Draco caught
her looking at him and smirked, blowing her a kiss. Beside her, Titus noticed the interaction and
tensed.

"It never ceases to amaze me how much audacity he has. Flirting with you when I'm right fucking
here."

"Just ignore him."

Titus examined the smile she tried and failed to hide. He wrinkled his nose and seemed disgusted
at her excitement.

"I hope you're not impressed by a few flips on a broom."

"I've never seen you do them."

The words came out like a challenge.

An expression crossed Titus' face— one she'd never seen before and couldn't categorise.

"I haven't felt the need to show off. Maybe you're forgetting, but I was—"

"Quidditch captain. Yes, yes, I know. And Head Boy. Never beaten in a duel. Perfect in every way.
I thought you weren't trying to show off?"

Titus gave a little snort of laughter.

"You've been around Theo too much— way too sarcastic for your own good."

She opened her mouth to say something, but the approach of someone in dark robes cut her off.
She glanced up to be met with a frightening scowl.

"Mr. Nott," Headmaster Snape greeted. He gave a nod of his head to her. "And Miss Hermione."

He had an odd way of talking, drawing out the syllables as if he didn't like the feel of them in his
mouth, with a patronising tone behind the words.

Snape sat down next to Titus, flicking the tails of his heavy robe over the seat. His dark hair hung
limp and oily over his forehead, and a hooked nose took up much of his face.

"I hate to discuss politics here, but I need assurance we are in agreement for the next step forward,"
Snape said in a low whisper, keeping his gaze on the pitch.

Titus pondered that, taking his time to answer.

"I'm not sure there's enough evidence. There's no link to him from any of the sources. I could order
Veritaserum, but I'd need to find a legal way to do it."

"He should have been in Azkaban from the beginning." The words came out with a hard hiss.

"I agree, but he was pardoned." Titus kept his eyes on Theo. Hermione found it odd that two men
could have a whole conversation without looking at each other. "I know your history, and it makes
you biased. You can't be a part of the investigation."

Snape clenched his jaw, giving a ferocious frown.

Hermione paid close attention, wondering who they talked about.

"I've waited long enough. A simple search of his home would reveal his allegiance."

"And what then? You have another motive."

"I'd take care of his estate."

"The muggleborn, you mean."

"Yes. She still has a few more years left of fertility, but I'd take her in even if she didn't."

"How magnanimous," Titus mocked. "If you're not aware, she has three children."

"I'm aware," he drawled as if Titus was stupid. "The oldest is almost gone…thankfully. The boy
has too much of his father in him. The girl is like her mother and has never misbehaved, and the
third is still young enough it would be an easy transition for him. I'm prepared to treat them as my
own. I might even make the youngest boy my heir."
Titus paused, eyes watching Theo take careful turns around the pitch as a warmup. Poor Theo
looked petrified.

"The muggleborn won't be happy if you take her from her home."

"At first," Snape agreed. "But with James sent to Azkaban for supplying the Order with
information, she wouldn't have a choice. It wouldn't be my fault."

Titus snorted.

"Yes, it would. You're the one demanding the investigation."

"She wouldn't know it was my fault," Snape amended, rolling his wand in his fingers. "I trust your
silence on the matter when it comes time to ease the transition. James was an Order member in the
war. He pretends to have given it up. I have no proof he's still active, but the suspicion is
warranted, especially as activity has increased, and we know Sirius Black is alive. The information
they sent in the last ultimatum sounds like someone from the inside has been supplying
information, and James works for the ministry. If they succeed, they'll take all the muggleborns,
including your ward."

Hermione froze at the mention of the Order, and Titus reached down his hand and grabbed hers,
giving a squeeze to reassure her.

"Out of everyone, I understand the threat," Titus said in a low voice. "But I have to follow the
rules. I can't just raid a pureblood estate on a whim. However… I promise to investigate it. If
there's any evidence, I'll let you know."

Snape gave a slow nod.

"I will forever be in your debt." He emphasised the last word. "James deserves all that is coming to
him."

Titus looked troubled.

"If it's a muggleborn you're wanting, there are a few Trials coming up you could compete in.
Despite your age, you'd win in a duel, and your intelligence is well known. You'd succeed,
depending on the other competitors."

Snape looked violent at the suggestion, lips pulled back to show his teeth.

"I don't want another muggleborn. What would I do with a girl half my age? I'm surrounded by the
twittering idiots every day. Living with one would be a nightmare."

Titus gave a laugh, but he tilted his head.

"As you wish."

"Good day, Mr. Nott."

Snape stiffly rose and walked away.

Titus was still long after Snape left, as if turning the situation over in his head. When the whistle
blew to begin the game, Titus kept her hand in his firm grasp.

Theo played terribly as a chaser. He got hit by a bludger at the beginning of the game. When he got
taken out for the injury, his whole team seemed relieved.

The Hufflepuffs played dirtier than she expected, given their nature, but maybe Slytherins brought
the worst out in people.

Draco kept his eye on the air, searching for the tiny flutter of the Golden Snitch. Occasionally, she
felt his gaze shift to her, though she tried to ignore it. It still caused a flush to spread up her cheeks,
wondering if he appreciated the time and effort she put into her appearance for their date.

The game bored her, so her mind wandered, thinking about her date later. And then her mind
couldn't help but linger on thoughts she shouldn't.

Titus had let go of her hand long ago, but she still felt the warmth and the callouses. She wished to
pick his hand back up again and trace the lines on his palm. She wondered how many women he'd
touched with them. Did he slide them down their breasts, their hips? Did he—

Titus grabbed Hermione's arm, jolting her from her thoughts. Her eyes snapped up to see Draco's
broom barreling toward them, too fast to move out of the way.

Instead of a collision, Draco pulled to a magnificent stop, just inches from her. He grabbed beside
her ear, fingers trailing down her cheek, lifting a few strands of hair. Before she could react, he
pulled back his hand to show the Golden Snitch fluttering in his palm, right in front of her eyes.

A devastating smirk tilted up his lips. "The snitch must have been attracted to beauty, like a bee to
a flower."

Titus shoved him away. He wobbled on the broom but righted himself.

"Get the fuck away from her!" Titus stood up with his wand pointed at Malfoy. The entire stadium
went silent with the confrontation, but Draco just rolled his eyes.

"I was just catching the snitch, Nott. Didn't mean to… unsettle you."

Hermione's heart raced, and a latent shot of anxiety raced through her.

"I'm not sure how you engineered that, Malfoy. But get that close to her again—game or not— and
your father will have to reattach body parts."

Draco backed away, still clutching the snitch. He wore a smirk, eyes flashing like mercury, which
told Titus he both engineered the touch, and he'd do it again if he wanted.

They both glared at each other, neither backing down, until the Slytherins began to celebrate their
win behind him, releasing bursts of confetti in the air.

Draco gave another daring wink.

"Like a bee to a flower," he repeated, flying off toward his teammates.

Titus seethed next to her, reluctantly pocketing his wand. She'd rarely seen him so angry. The
students and parents closest to them silently scooted away, giving him furtive looks as he clenched
and unclenched his wand hand.

"I might just kill that spoiled wanker one day. If his father wasn't Lucius Malfoy, I would have
already."
After the game, they exited the stands and went into the castle, waiting for Theo to get out of the
infirmary.

Titus remained tense from the confrontation with Draco, frowning and with a hand on his wand.
The veins in his hands raised as he clenched it hard.

Hermione touched his arm, worried about his anger. His eyes snapped down to her.

"It's okay," she said. "Nothing happened."

"He touched you."

"Barely. My cheek and my hair." She picked up his free hand and rested it against her cheek. "See,
it doesn't mean anything."

His eyes searched her face, and he slid his hand away. The calluses pricked her skin.

"Touch always has meaning." Titus' expression once again hardened, looking down at the hand she
had put on her face."I don't like how you look at Malfoy."

"I can't think he's handsome? He might be my future wizard."

Titus wore a disgusted snarl.

"It doesn't matter what you think of him. That little shite doesn't deserve you. He won't be your
future wizard. I'll make sure of that. Lucius thinks he can corner me into what he wants, but I'm not
one to be manipulated."

Hermione didn't like that. The trials were based on fairness. Three or more wizards competed, and
the best won. She didn't think Titus should let Draco win, but she didn't think he should make him
lose either.

"How would you do that?"

"I've had an idea, but I'm still unsure if I should proceed with it. There are a lot of variables to the
plan that I need to smooth out."

"And you won't tell me?"

Titus gave a smile. It held a private edge to it, knowing a joke she didn't.

"One day, perhaps."

Hermione frowned, not liking him keeping things from her.

"I'm going to try and figure it out."

All of his anger melted away as he stared at her. He took a step closer to her, and she looked up
into his face.

"Of course, you will," he said. "But I must warn you that you won't discover the plan in the
library."

"That sounds like a challenge."

He looked like he might say more, but his eyes flicked up. He stepped away from her as Theo
walked closer, looking dejected and with his arm in a sling.

"I'd say good game," Titus teased, "But you weren't in it but for a few minutes."

"That Hufflepuff targeted me on purpose," Theo protested.

Titus rolled his eyes and motioned to his arm.

"What did Pomfrey say?"

"I need to keep it on for the day to stabilise it, but it can come off tomorrow." He glanced at
Hermione, revealing his nerves with his wide eyes. "Can I show Hermione more of the castle? I
wanted her to see the giant squid."

"We need to be fast. I have to be back at the ministry in an hour."

Theo grimaced. Hermione wondered what Draco would do to Theo if he didn't hold up his end of
the bargain.

"Don't you need to talk to Snape or something?" Theo asked.

"I already—"

"No, he needs to talk to me," a drawling voice said. Lucius and his cane clicked against the stone,
until he faced Titus. "Run along while I speak with your master."

Titus pulled his lip into a silent snarl.

"They aren't going anywhere, and I have nothing to say to you. Draco is playing with fire. Any
more stunts like that, and our deal is off, promise or not."

"The folly of youth." Lucius gave a flippant wave of his hand. "I'll speak to him." His eyes slid to
Hermione, examining her as if he was stripping her of her skin and studying her bones. "But I
didn't come over here to talk about Draco. The information I have is more… sensitive, and it's
imperative I tell you about it today."

Titus turned serious—his work face— transforming from soft to hard. He glared at Theo.

"Go ahead and take her to the lake and to the library. I want her back here in an hour, and not a
second later. And don't you dare leave her alone, or you won't like the punishment I'd give you."

Theo gave a visible swallow. The flickering torches reflected off his glasses, so she couldn't see his
expression, but she suspected he might be regretting the deal he'd made.

Theo didn't take her to the lake, though she did wish to see the squid and the mermaids. Instead, he
took her along a maze of hallways, the ancient stones surrounding her like a comforting arrived at a
giant painting of a fruit bowl. Theo reached forward and tickled the pear situated in the center, and
it giggled, turning into a green door handle. Theo reached out and opened it, but he hesitated,
crinkling his brows.

"Are you sure you want to do this? There are several nice normal blokes to date."

Hermione took a moment to think about it. Did she like Draco? She didn't know much about him,
besides what they talked about in their letters.
But did she find him attractive?

Yes.

Oh, yes.

Just the thought of him in his quidditch uniform made her stomach tighten.

Like a bee to a flower.

Besides, another boy wouldn't dare go against Titus to date her or kiss her or touch her.

But Draco would.

Before she could answer Theo's question, Draco opened the door. The light behind him framed his
hair, giving him a halo. His silver eyes pierced through her. He'd cleaned up from the game,
freshly showered, wearing his Hogwarts uniform, but his cheeks still flushed a healthy colour from
activity. He'd slicked his fair hair back and to the side in an attractive style.

The last time she'd been this close to him he'd been a boy, but this time, he looked almost a man.
Nerves fluttered in her stomach. She'd thought a lot about this day, often taking out the multiple
letters he'd sent her over the past several years to read over at night. After the first round of
questioning, many of his letters were like diary entries. He still asked her questions, but he talked
about his day, what he hated, what he liked, who he talked to, who he sat by. She answered him in
kind.

She thought she'd feel comfortable around him, but the instant his silver gaze fell on her, he felt
like a separate person from the boy writing her letters— a stranger.

"Nice normal blokes aren't as interesting as me." Draco turned to Theo and gave him a frown. "I'll
bring her back in fifty minutes."

"Forty," Theo said. "We can't take chances. Titus has been on edge. He might kill you if he finds
you with her, damn the consequences."

"He won't find her with me."

Theo hesitated, giving a glance to Hermione to see if she was okay, and then he walked a little way
back and rested against the wall.

"I'll be right around the corner."

Draco turned to her with a crooked grin, eyes like a spark, ready to burn her. He grabbed her hand,
and the contact jolted her. In all her life, she'd only touched a few people beyond her friends, Titus,
Tabitha, and Theo. His hands were just as callused as Titus' were, but maybe more elegant with
long fingers and trimmed nails. He brought her hand to his mouth and let his full lips rest against
her knuckles.

"Let me show you a good time."

Hermione followed Draco into a room with five long tables. Pots and pans lined the stone walls. A
large fireplace roared on the opposite wall. Stoves and ovens were in multiple locations. It smelled
like sugar and fresh baked bread, a comfortable and homey place.

"The Hogwarts kitchen," he explained. "It's attached to the Great Hall." He pulled a parchment out
of his pocket. "I solemnly swear that I am up to no good." He touched his wand to the paper, and
the ink twisted and spread.

"The Marauder's Map?" Hermione asked, reading the title. She attempted to grab the parchment in
curious excitement to study it, but he held it aloft.

"Not a chance, Granger," he said. "This is all mine, but I'll let you look, if you stop acting like such
a greedy swot."

He brought it down and put it between them as he unfolded it to show a map of Hogwarts, with
little footprints showing where each person was located.

"Brilliant!" Hermione wondered what charms were used to create it. "Where did you get it?"

"Stole it from Potter. Rather useful, I think. As long as we keep an eye on Nott's location, we'll be
fine."

She saw Titus' footsteps alongside Lucius and Headmaster Snape. They were near the owlery.

"After tonight, you need to give that back to Harry," she said. If Harry was Theo's friend, then he
was her friend.

Draco paused and tilted his head.

"You don't like that four-eyed bastard, do you?"

"And if I do?"

Draco made a terrible face.

"Theo's corrupted you. Potter's the bane of my existence."

"Only because he always beats you at quidditch."

The tops of his cheeks turned red.

"Theo is getting on my last nerve. Potter is just abnormally lucky." He took a deep breath and ran a
hand through his hair. Hermione realised he might be a little nervous. "This is going badly." He
groaned. "Fine, I'll stop pranking Potter for a month. Would that make you happy?"

"And the map?"

He grimaced, as if she asked for his first-born child.

"I'll consider it." He led her to one of the tables, containing two goblets of pumpkin juice and
cauldron cakes— her favourites. He'd paid attention to her letters, it seemed. She wondered if he
reread them obsessively like she did.

Hermione sat, taking a bite of her cake before she even relaxed. Draco took a spot opposite to her,
staring at her as she inhaled the dessert, paying attention to her mouth.

"What have you planned for this date?" She sipped the pumpkin juice.

"Something I promised you long ago."

He pulled a box out from beside him and set it on the table. Upon unfolding, it revealed its contents
to be Wizards Chess—an expensive version with silver and gold-plated pieces with diamonds for
eyes. A bit too gaudy for Hermione's taste, but she knew fine craftsmanship when she saw it.

"You remember that?"

"I remember every interaction of ours."

That made her a little wary.

"I won't go easy on you," she warned.

"Don't play nice," he said. "Blaise is terrible at chess, Goyle is dumb as a Pygmy Puff, and the
elves always let me win. I want a real challenge for once."

"Will you cry if you lose to me like you do with Harry?"

Something dark sparked behind his eyes. It made the blood thrum in her veins.

With a flick of his wand, the pieces stood at attention. The horse pawed at the ground in agitation.

"I only possess one good intention, and it's hanging by a thread," he said. "I've waited years to have
you alone again. One more statement like that, and your mouth will be too occupied to deliver any
insults. Now, do you want to play or not?"

Hermione clenched her thighs together at the thought of what he promised. She almost said
something else, wanting to know where it would lead them. But she really did want to play chess
too.

She slid a pawn across the board, starting the game. Draco seemed surprised by her initial move.

The fire snapped in the background as they played, the only sound besides marble scraping against
marble and the crack of the pieces as one slaughtered the other.

The game didn't last long. Draco believed he was good at strategy, but she learned chess from
Katie, who had quite the mind for the game.

"Checkmate," she said after only thirty minutes of intense playing.

He blinked.

"There's no fucking way." He rubbed his eyes. "No one wins against me."

"Except me."

His eyes flicked up, darkening, as if he wanted to consume her. Hermione stopped breathing with
the tension, spine snapped straight, just waiting for the moment the subtle string exploded between
them.

"Except you." Something sunk in his expression, as if falling. "It seems you're always the
exception."

A beat of silence, and then he lunged across the table, shoving his gold-plated chess set out of the
way. It clattered to the ground as he grabbed the sides of her face and pulled her into a brutal kiss
that seared across her body. He tangled his fingers in her hair and groaned into her mouth, while
climbing over the table, mouth still attached. He stood and yanked her up with him. Both hands
travelled down her back, following the curve of her bottom, and then down to the back of her
knees, just like her fantasy. He lifted and spread her legs, curling them around his waist, keeping
his hands on her thighs as he walked. Soon her back pressed against the stone wall in between
several frying pans. The weight of him felt glorious pressed tight against her.

He broke the kiss, trailing his lips to her neck, right under her ear like he had in the Astronomy
tower, and she gasped at the feeling. Every touch sparked like a jolt of magic.

"I'm not going to allow anyone else to win you," he groaned against her skin. "And once you're
mine, I'm going to give you everything."

"Hm," she replied, tilting her neck up so he could have better access. The heat of his tongue
replaced his lips, and she curled her fingers into his clothes with a frantic energy. "Viktor Krum
also put his token in. He wants to give me everything too."

She knew he smiled by the way his lips twisted near her throat.

"You always know just the thing to rile me up," His hands slid up her thighs, pushing her dress up
as he went, until it pooled around her waist. She wore green knickers just for him, but he didn't
look down, transferring his hands to her hips.

She'd never had the bare skin of her thighs touched. Her body erupted in goosebumps.

When he kissed her again, she opened her mouth, enjoying the taste of him. It seemed he was
content to continue like this, but she wanted more—wanted what she'd been thinking about for
months. And if she didn't try it now, she might never get the chance again. With a flicker of
courage born of pure desire, she grabbed one of his hands and tugged it sideways, dragging it
lower.

"What are you doing?" Draco's eyes snapped up, and he pulled his hand away, studying her.

Hermione froze in a moment of instant mortification. Maybe he didn't understand what she was
doing.

"Well, sometimes I—I mean, when you touch—"

"No, I know what you're asking me to do. I just didn't realise you'd know—"

"I just want to experiment." Merlin, her face felt hot. This was embarrassing and not how it played
out in her mind.

"I'm just checking if you're sure?"

Was he an idiot? She was the one who put his hand there. She didn't want to go slow. She wanted
to burn and explode. Her curiosity compelled her, and her body urged her forward. There wasn't a
single part of her mind that wanted to stop.

"If you don't start right now, I'll finish it myself."

"Bloody hell," he groaned, eyes rolling back in pained disbelief before he focused on her once
more.

His hand trailed down, but right before he reached his destination, her body spasmed with an odd
fear. Doing this by herself was one thing. If he'd kept his mouth shut, she probably could have
continued off pure adrenaline. But he'd stopped, and her brain caught up.
"Wait," she said.

He stopped instantly. The heat of his fingers hovered right over the spot she usually touched. If she
pushed forward, she knew it would bring her relief from the tension that was starting to feel like
pain. His hand trembled, as if he felt the same mixture of excitement, desire, and trepidation. "I
think—I don't know if I— I'm sorry."

"Don't be fucking sorry." He placed his hand back on her hip. "You're allowed to change your
mind. Everything is up to you."

A shot of disappointment went through her. Mostly, at herself. She'd wanted him to touch her.
She'd planned for it, body taut with tension, wishing to experience the sexual freedom that Titus
seemed to enjoy. But the reality was messier than what her brain conjured, filled with
consequences and a living human that had his own thoughts and desires.

"I don't want this to be anything serious," she explained, saying her biggest fear out loud. "I'm not
ready for— not until things are certain. You understand, right?"

He gave an ugly sneer and looked like he might respond, but there was a knock on the door. She
knew it was Theo.

Malfoy didn't let her go, fingers digging into her hips. He leaned forward, pressing their foreheads
together.

"It won't be long until the next game," he said as if to comfort himself. "My father promised to
create another diversion so we can meet."

Lucius helped arrange the meeting. Or maybe he just indulged the plea of his only son. She'd
thought something was odd about his interruption.

"I need to go," she said.

"Give me a moment." He breathed hard and gave her a soft kiss, a sharp juxtaposition to the last
one. "The things I have to do to get you alone— the years I have to wait—and I only get a fraction
of the time that I want."

The intensity behind it—the obsession—made her wary. But, despite that, a low thrill bloomed in
her stomach, feeling on the edge of danger, like dangling in the air on a broom.

"One day, I won't have to let you go," he whispered.

She almost corrected him, annoyed with his certainty.

"But today you do." She shoved at his shoulders until he let her go, and she stepped out of his hold.
Instantly, she missed his body heat. The imprint of his hands remained on her hips.

She walked to the door, giving one last look over her shoulder. He glanced down at his hand— the
one that had hovered over her knickers— and then he met her stare with a dark expression.

"Next time, I'd like to taste you."

Hermione blushed, unsure what he meant, but it sounded filthy in a way that made the blooming
warmth in her stomach spread along her lower body. She tried to shake it off as she exited the
room.
When she walked out, she found Theo. He shook his head at her appearance.

"You don't need to tell me you kissed him," he said. "Let me fix it, or Titus will have my head."

Theo touched up her makeup and hair.

"Did you have fun?" He asked when he finished.

"Very much so. I murdered him at chess."

"That's my girl," Theo said proudly. "I rely on you to curb his ego."

She reached into her pocket and pulled out a parchment. Even though she'd crumpled it, the page
straightened again. She handed the map to Theo, having stolen it from Draco during the chess
game.

"Give this back to Harry."

She wished she could view Draco's reaction when he discovered it gone.

He really should pay closer attention to his belongings.

 Wildfire Whiz-bangs
Chapter Notes

Song Suggestion: Kiki Rockwell- "Same Old Energy"

As always, this chapter is 100% better because of my beta, MyPrivateInsanity!

See the end of the chapter for more notes

Wildfire Whiz-bangs

Hermione found Titus in his study. It looked meticulously organised and clean as always. A single
pot of ink rested next to a stack of parchment on the ancient wood.

The desk was her favourite piece of furniture in the manor, showcasing the story of Atherol Nott—
a dragon knight from the fourteenth century— on three heavy panels of wood attached with a thick
top. Much like the portraits, the carving came to life. As Hermione walked in, the dragon launched
into the sky, splinters of fire erupting from its mouth in a silent roar. And when she sat in a chair
across from Titus, Atherol brandished his sword as if to fight her.

Titus looked regal, framed by the light from the window, still in his Auror uniform and armour
from an early morning mission. His blue eyes flicked up once to acknowledge her entrance before
returning to his task.

Hermione knew she'd need to use every bit of her cunning to enact her plan. Since the auror tried to
kidnap her, Titus didn't like her to go out without him, but she needed a new robe and a few books
to read—at least, that's what she'd tell him. Her real reason was far more dangerous.

She listened to the comforting scratch of his quill, watching his intense concentration on his task.
When he finally finished filling out the last parchment, he looked up, studying her until he
frowned.

"You want something, but you think I might say no." He narrowed his eyes.

"How could you possibly know that?"

"You bounce your right leg when you're nervous." He pointed to his face. "And you lift your
eyebrows a little, forcing your eyes to go big and round, already pleading." He leaned back in his
chair, hands clasped across his stomach. "What do you want?"

Hermione took a breath.

"Diagon Alley."

"No." Titus leaned forward and grabbed his quill again, as if to dismiss her.

"But that's not fair."

He grimaced.
"Your safety is more important than being fair."

Hermione bit back a frustrated scream. She hated being treated like porcelain, one fall away from
shattering.

"I need more to do than wandering the manor and having friends over. I'm going insane cooped up
in here. It will be weeks before Theo is home, and you're always working."

The harsh lines of his shoulders relaxed, and he gave a deep sigh.

"Are you feeling neglected?" He looked at her in a sharp way, full of analysis.

She frowned. He said that as if she was some fussy, exotic plant that needed correct sunlight and
attention to flourish.

"No," she said. "I just want a change of scenery."

Maybe she did feel neglected. Titus was her only outlet to the outside world. When he had time,
he'd always taken her on shopping trips or to the ministry, but he'd been more busy than usual. The
past few weeks she barely saw him.

However, her plans went further than a simple shopping trip this time, so she'd take the ego hit if it
meant getting to go.

"You lie so well," he said. "But not well enough. You're right. I think it's time I took a break and
spent time with you. Books and then ice cream, like normal. Does that sound good?"

Good enough. She'd prefer some random auror, because it would be easier to slip things by them,
but she thought she could fool Titus.

If she was careful.

The plan had long been set in motion. The boys were less guarded than the girls, so she relied on
them for the initial contact. Dean—the braver of the two boys— had followed Ollivander when
he'd exited his shop. He'd waited until his auror was distracted before "accidentally" knocking into
the old man, slipping a note into his wrinkled hand while steadying him.

It was a risk— the biggest one their tiny coven had ever attempted. The first rebellion. It all hinged
on a small look Ollivander had given Titus along with a few misplaced words, hinting toward the
idea the wand maker didn't agree with the current ban of magic for muggleborns.

The note read:

Four muggleborns need wands. If you're willing to give them, leave a note outside your shop
under a stone near the door, telling us your answer.

It had taken three weeks for the stone to show up. It seemed the wand maker needed to consider
the risk, which Hermione understood. She still remembered Titus' threatening tone toward him.
The punishment for giving them wands might be severe. Still, they had no other option.

Each day had dragged, waiting for an answer. They all checked, asking their masters in turns to go.
Hermione only managed to walk by once and tried to not be disappointed seeing the barren
doorway. It would devastate her friends to reach a dead-end, especially since none of them grasped
wandless magic, besides an accidental spark made by Julie.
But then, one day, the stone showed up, agreeing to their request for help.

They exchanged several notes this way, until all four of them got a chance to stand before the store,
so Ollivander could glance at them through the window. The old man had a sixth sense when it
came to wand cores and matching them with wizards. Still, the first time he'd sent a wand—one for
Finch—it did nothing but almost zap Julie with an errant spark of magic. Since then, they enacted a
complicated merry-go-round of wands.

Hermione had charmed a purse for the girls that they passed around that could shrink down
anything to fit into a small space, which she hoped would fool their masters. She'd given the boys a
shopping bag, which sported the same charms. So far no one had been the wiser of their sleights of
hand, though Hermione worried that one day their luck would run out.

At the present moment, Hermione wore her black leather purse tight against her body as they
walked down Diagon Alley. Titus looked at it with one eyebrow raised.

"I've never seen you wear a purse."

Of course, he would notice.

And he was right. She never needed her own galleons in Diagon Alley.

"Fashion, Titus," she answered.

He gave a snort.

"When have you cared about fashion? I almost have to beg you to pick out new clothes from the
current catalogues."

"You caught me," Hermione said. "I'm using it to carry my extra books in case I read through my
main one."

"That sounds more like it, though it looks much too small for its purpose. Perhaps next time you
could bring something larger."

"Fair point."

He placed a hand on the small of her back, leading her through the crowd, and something warm
zipped up her spine.

Honestly, she didn't lie about carrying books. Their first stop had been at the bookstore, and she'd
pilfered a few tomes, placing them into the depths of her purse, hoping they contained new
knowledge. She didn't have much time to examine what she'd stolen, but she planned to add them
to her mini library hidden in the treehouse by a simple charm. Only if they proved interesting.
She'd run out of space under her floorboard a long time ago, but she wasn't too worried. Titus never
went up there, so there was a statistically low chance he'd find them. They'd be placed next to the
newest muggle books Professor Booth gave her on Calculus and Microbiology.

At the moment, they walked side by side down the street without destination, just enjoying the
day. At least, that's what Titus thought. In reality, she was leading them by Ollivanders wand shop.

"Having fun, Sprite?" he asked.

"Bunches," she said and gave a little skip of her feet to show him. Despite her mission, It felt great
to be out, seeing something different than her normal four walls.
But she didn't let it distract her from her plan.

When Titus turned his head, she pulled out a small box from her purse and held it to her side. Titus
twisted back around, and she smiled at him, hoping it didn't look suspicious. His eyes lingered on
her face in a soft way, lifting up half a smile, letting a single dimple show— the type of charming
smirk that she'd seen him give pretty witches. No matter how many times she'd seen it, the grin
still almost made her trip on her shoes.

Earlier in the year, Theo gave her the trick box as a secret birthday present. The Weasley twins
invented it, though they hadn't tested it. Theo told her the two men were either future entrepreneurs
or future criminals, and there wouldn't be an in-between. Hermione wished she could meet them.
She loved Theo's stories of them tormenting Filch and Headmaster Snape. On the last day of
seventh year, they'd even turned the great hall into a swamp and flew away to the cheers of
students.

She held their latest idea—Wildfire Whiz-bangs.

The prank might be enough to pull Titus away from her side.

"We should stop by the quidditch store and get something for Theo before we go," Titus said. "He
doesn't get to play much, but I'd prefer he wear quality equipment."

Hermione gave a nod in agreement. They were now in front of Ollivanders, and Hermione groaned
internally. Titus kept staring at her, and she needed his attention to be on something else or else the
whole day would be for nothing.

"Do you think we could go over there after?" She pointed to a store across the street.

Titus turned his head, and she used the distraction to act. She threw the box and watched it land.
With a quick wandless stunning spell, it exploded. Fireworks burst around them in a glorious
display.

Within seconds, Titus grabbed her and shoved her to the ground, putting his body over her with his
wand out. When he realised it was just fireworks and not some errant explosion, his stance
loosened.

"Who the fuck did that?" He got off her, leaving an odd warmth along her body. No one paid
attention to his furious demand, because the fireworks kept coming. Each time someone tried to
vanish them, they multiplied. Hermione laughed and then covered her mouth. Titus turned his
sharp gaze on her for a moment.

"Don't move," he said. "It's probably just a couple of dumb kids that need to learn a lesson."

"Don't be too hard on them." Hermione watched him stalk away.

In the chaos, Hermione scooted to the edge of the building. A small bag of garbage awaited her. At
least, it looked like garbage, charmed to hide the wands. She picked it up and shoved it in her purse
and then scooted back to her spot.

Titus didn't seem to notice that she'd moved, so she sat there and waited, whistling and fidgeting.

It took several minutes for him to return to her.

"Did you find the dumb kids?"

"No," he said. "But this has those fucking Weasley twins written all over it. They are a menace to
society."

"Seemed like harmless fun."

Again, he looked at her, examining her. As an auror, he'd been trained in body language, able to
tell when someone lied or was nervous. She controlled herself as much as possible.

"Harmless fun," he repeated in a dry tone. "Well, it cut our day short. I'm going to need to go to the
ministry to sort out the complaints."

Titus' mood darkened as they apparated home. Hermione endured the unpleasant pop and
reappearance as he guided her inside.

"Are you going to the ministry now?" She asked, a little worried. Titus was usually placid. He
rarely showed a bad mood in front of her, but he seemed to be seething.

"Not anymore. There are a few new hires that can handle it. I think I already discovered the culprit,
and it's not someone I can name."

"Oh, okay."

They stood in the foyer, the giant chandelier dangling above them. She tried to walk toward her
room, but he grabbed her upper arm near her shoulder.

His intelligent blue eyes now narrowed on her, and she instantly felt dissected.

"Where did you get it?"

"What?" She asked, heart pounding. He tugged her around to face him, pulling her close. Her chest
heaved against him as he glared down at her.

He'd never done anything like this—an interrogation—as if she was one of his criminals.

He loosened his hold on her shoulder but leaned down. She glanced up at his eyes, viewing them
closer than she ever had before. Flecks of white dotted the center with a dark outer ring. She
thought she might see a little green buried in the blue. If they resembled water, now they were a
storm.

"The fireworks. Where did you get them?"

"You're scaring me."

"Answer me!"

She flinched. He'd never yelled at her like that before.

Hermione knew she'd need to admit something if she wanted to lower suspicion. She'd lied several
times that day, so she picked the least volatile one.

"Theo," she admitted. She tried to tug away, but his grip tightened, keeping them close together.
"The Weasley twins gave it to him. You were right that they invented it. I—I didn't mean anything
by it. Just a funny prank. I thought you'd laugh."

His jaw muscles clenched.

"It wasn't just a prank." He pushed her shoulder, walking with her until her back pressed against the
wall, right next to a portrait. "What were you trying to distract me from?"

Hermione swallowed hard. She shouldn't have attempted this with Titus present. He was too
observant. He let go of her shoulder now and placed both hands on the wall beside her head.

If he found the wand, Ollivander would be placed in Azkaban for helping them, and she'd never
see her friends again. It had felt like a game until now, but the consequences would be dire.

She decided to tell another lie with a truth.

"I saw the book on the side of the street. Someone must have dropped it."

"Take it out of the fucking purse."

She flinched at his tone.

With shaking fingers, she reached into the purse and took out one of the books. It was a blind grab,
so she hoped it would be good enough to fool him. When she saw the cover, she breathed a sigh of
relief.

Dark Spells from Dark Wizards. It was controversial enough it contributed to the lie.

Titus grabbed it and straightened. He flipped it over and skimmed through it.

"You charmed the purse," he said, snapping the book shut and throwing it to the side. Hermione
flinched when it landed. He didn't have to treat the book that way. "I'd be impressed if I wasn't so
angry. What were you intending with this?"

Hermione crossed her arms on her chest.

"To learn something new for a fucking change."

He glared at her tone and language, even if he had just used the same against her.

"I provide you with countless opportunities to learn new things. What are the tutors I pay for, if not
to learn? Do you think other muggleborns get the same opportunity?"

Hermione took a deep breath and pushed it out through her nose.

"I want to learn real magic," she said. "Half the library is off limits. I need… I need something
more than what I'm getting."

Titus leaned toward her, crowding into her space.

"I've given you everything you need, even a fucking wand." He once again placed his hands next to
her head on the wall. It made her nervous in a way she didn't understand. "Do you even know what
would happen to me if the ministry discovered I'd given you one? I'm not trying to hurt you. I'm
attempting to protect you."

She believed he held good intentions despite his harsh tone, but she felt too distracted by his
proximity to respond. Her mouth felt dry.

"I'm going to need to take your purse," he said.

That absolutely could not happen. Her wards were pathetic—only basic ones. Titus could break
through them in five minutes. She needed to keep it away from him.

She acted on pure instinct and brought one hand up and placed it on his neck, wondering if begging
would soften him. His pulse thumped against her palm as she touched his heated skin. The tendons
and muscles tightened beneath her fingers.

"Please, don't take it. The purse is the first thing I've ever created." She glanced up, giving a
pleading expression, one that usually made him give in, but he only tensed up. "I just saw the book
and wanted to see what it was. That's all."

"You have another book, don't you?"

Hermione hated giving up another, but she had no choice.

"Yes." She groaned, sliding her hand off his neck.

"Let me see."

She dug down and brought up the other, pressing her teeth together in agitation. The book she
brought out was thicker than the other one and something she realised that she'd already read.

"The Magical History of the Roman Empire." He turned it over and handed it back. She slipped it
back into her purse. "I shouldn't even let you have this one, but it's innocuous. Are these all the
books you have?"

She was lucky he asked for books and not items, or else he might see through the lie. Luckily, she
could answer the truth.

"Yes," she said. "Can I go to my room?"

She needed to get out before he asked to rifle through the purse contents.

But Titus didn't move out of her space. He leaned down, so that their faces were level. He smelled
of cinnamon and something purely Titus. She resisted the desire to take a deep breath of the
pleasant scent so close to the source, reminding her of comfort.

"You tried to manipulate me." His teeth flashed white with his grimace. "You're playing a game
you don't understand. It's a form of power, I admit, but only if you know how to use it." He reached
out and placed his palm against her cheek. It was rough and large, the calluses prickling her skin.
"Right now, you're so naive. There's so much you don't know about life that I wish I could explain
to you."

Her stomach tumbled. Titus talked in riddles. Was he mocking her? He must have seen the
confusion on her face, because he frowned and let her go with a frustrated sound.

"Just go to your room."

She took the reprieve and ran to the exit, only looking back once to see Titus glaring at the ground,
hand still braced on the wall.

Several days later, she crawled into the treehouse. She darkened the windows just in case Titus
became curious. Since the incident, she'd been hesitant around him for reasons she didn't quite
understand. Her vocabulary didn't contain the explanation for what she felt. She'd barely seen him,
and when she did, she found a way to leave the room.
Katie, Julie, Finch, and Dean sat in a circle in the treehouse, waiting for her. Each of them had gone
through several wands before finding their match. Ollivander was quite skilled at matching wands
to their owners, but he operated at a disadvantage with them, since none of them could stand in his
store while he chose wands for them to try. After much trial and error, Julie, Dean, and Finch had
each found their wands, leaving only Katie without one.

Hermione reached into her purse and extracted the illicit wand.

"Let's see if this one works," she told Katie. Her friend took a deep breath, reached out and clasped
the wand in her hand. Brilliant sparks erupted from the tip, bathing the room in celebratory light.
Katie opened her mouth in awe, Julie squealed in happiness, Finch began to cry, and Dean gave a
loud whoop.

Hermione waited for everyone to settle down to bring up the serious discussion points.

"We'll need to keep the wands hidden here," Hermione said.

"What happens when I leave?" Katie asked. All of them tensed up with the question. The thought
of Katie leaving sent spikes of anxiety through her.

"You might have to keep it here until I go to the Trials," Hermione said. "After that, I'll try to
smuggle it to you. Do you think Flint would get angry if he found it?"

Everyone knew Flint would win. He'd paid her masters to rig the Trials in his favour, so they only
accepted tokens from wizards they knew he'd win against. Hermione had been mad when she
heard about it, but Katie was resigned to her fate, saying he was a better choice than some, and the
Goyles needed money.

Katie shrugged her shoulders.

"I don't know him much. You wouldn't think it by seeing him, but he's shy. Every time he tries to
talk to me, he usually just stammers out something awkward and walks away. He was even willing
to wait to start the Trials, but my masters grew impatient."

"We'd better not take the chance," Dean said, and Katie agreed.

"And what about you?" Hermione turned to Juile. "Do you still think you can keep this from your
mum?

Bellatrix was a master legilimens, but luckily Julie was a natural occlumens. Hermione suspected it
had something to do with her pleasant nature, able to calmly compartmentalise her emotions.

"Of course," she said. "She can't use legilimency on me without ripping my mind. It's her fault she
taught me occlumency in the first place."

Julie might be the only human not afraid of the witch, but Hermione trusted her judgement.

"We're complete now." Hermione raised her wand, flicking a little lumos. The others did the same,
and they touched in the middle. "The Coven of the Tree."

"The Coven of the Tree," they repeated. They'd said it as a joke at first, but it sounded serious now,
like they were something to contend with—educated muggleborns enacting real magic with wands.
They were everything they weren't supposed to be. A deep pride filled Hermione that they
managed the impossible. She wished she could hug Ollivander.
 Maybe someday she could convince Titus it was okay for muggleborns to have wands. If she could
convince Titus, she could convince anyone.

A few days later, Hermione stumbled across a woman stepping out of the floo. She was tall, blond,
and wore strappy shoes that had a point on the back, pushing up her heels, showcasing her skirt hit
the middle of her thighs, revealing a scandalous amount of skin.

The woman startled when she saw Hermione, putting a hand to her chest with a little laugh.

"Who are you?" Hermione asked.

"I'm here for Titus."

Oh, she was one of his women. Hermione somehow withheld her instinctive sneer.

But this one was different than normal. It took her a moment to realise the woman was obviously
a muggle. Titus only slept with purebloods or halfbloods. Never muggles. It didn't make any sense.

The woman was beautiful, but wore a lot of makeup, and her hair looked unnatural. Hermione had
never seen anyone like her.

The muggle looked her over with a sly grin.

"And who are you?"

"I'm a Nott ward."

"Ward?" The woman's brow creased. "How old are you?"

"Eighteen," she said.

The woman looked her over again, no longer looking concerned.

"Such a pretty little thing. Aren't you just a doll." The woman gave a loud laugh that grated along
her skin. She hated the rotating women that entered and left the house, but something was off
about this one.

"Titus is in his study."

"Oh, I know." She gave a flippant wave as she walked out. "This is not the first time I've been
here."

Another oddity: Titus rarely had the same woman over twice.

Chapter End Notes

A/N: The wildfire whiz-bangs were taken from canon, but I did change it a little for
this universe, much like I did for other things, including the purse.
 Truth or Dare
Chapter Notes

Song suggestion: Jynjo- "How do you Like it" (ft. Spritely)

A/N: Merry Christmas and Happy Birthday, because this chapter is a rare gift of 8k
words. My chapters are usually in the 4k range, so it's like getting two chapters in one.
This was a beast to edit in a week.

A/N: There is something in this that I'm reusing from Brand New World. If you've
read it, you'll be able to recognize it.

My beta, MyPrivateInsanity, is the best! Without her, I would not have been able to
finish editing this within the week.

Truth or Dare

"You can't ignore me forever." Titus sat in the quidditch stands next to Hermione while waiting for
Theo's game to begin. The other parents and students kept a wide berth from them, probably
sensing the tension.

She decidedly could ignore him.

Hermione pulled her cloak tighter, attempting to block out the icy wind. High in the stands, it felt
unrelenting, despite warming charms. It was a miserable day, and if it wasn't for the anticipation of
what may come later with Draco, she'd have preferred to stay at home, inside, like any reasonable
person.

Hermione stared at Draco as he did flips and rolls in the air, practising catching the snitch. Her eyes
couldn't tear away from the long, lean lines of his body. A sharp desire shot through her,
remembering how it felt as his rough hands slid up her thighs.

Today, the Slytherins faced off against the Ravenclaws—the last game before the winter holiday.
The Slytherins weren't supposed to have a game so close to the last one, but the schedules had been
rearranged. Hermione suspected the Malfoys had a hand behind that.

"It's been days since you've talked to me, Sprite." Titus turned his face to look at her. "I'm not
angry anymore, and I miss you." He tried to grab her hand, but she tugged away, not wishing to be
soothed by him. He flexed his hand in agitation. "Look, I know why you stole the books. It must
seem unfair to be denied knowledge, especially to someone that loves it like you do. Just—try to
see it from my perspective." Titus touched the strap of her purse. She wore it today on purpose to
see if he'd take it away. Nothing was in it but a few approved books and some snacks. "It really is a
clever bit of magic. I wasn't lying when I said I was impressed."

When she still didn't respond, he made a noise of frustration and turned forward.

She waited until the anger forced her to speak.

"You yelled at me," she decided to say.

Titus didn't respond for a moment, as if trying to structure his thoughts.

"Are you really angry at that, or are you angrier I took away the books?"

"Both. I'm excellent at multitasking."

Titus sighed and rubbed the back of his neck, as if to massage out some tension.

"I won't apologise for taking back stolen books, but I shouldn't have yelled at you, even if I was
angry." He touched her hand, gently threading their fingers together. This time she didn't have the
strength to tug it away. She really didn't even have the strength to stay mad. It was hard ignoring
such an important person in her life. "I know my yelling scared you, and the thought of you ever
being scared of me makes me feel terrible."

Hermione took a deep breath.

"After the game, can I explore the castle with Theo?"

Titus searched her face as if to find the trick.

"If I let you, will you forgive me?"

"I don't know."

"Please, Sprite," he said. "I don't like you looking at me like that, as if— I'd never hurt you. You
know that, right?"

The whistle blew, signalling the start of the game.

"Fine," she said. "If you let me explore the castle with Theo for as long as I'd like—without
hovering over us—I'll attempt to forgive you." She might as well get what she wanted, since she'd
probably forgive him soon anyway. Keeping her anger burning took a lot of energy, and she didn't
know how much longer she could hold it without caving in, especially with the gentle way he held
her hand, keeping it warm from the icy wind.

He leaned over and brushed a kiss to her cheek, leaving the scent of cinnamon behind.

"Deal. I'll take you shopping tomorrow too. I've already taken off work to spend the day with you."

Theo brought her to the astronomy tower again.

"I really don't know what Malfoy planned," Theo said when she tried to get information out of him.
"All I know is he stole Harry's invisibility cloak this time. Maybe you could get that back like you
did the map. It's his father's, you see, and a family heirloom. He'd get in massive trouble if he lost
it."

"Of course," Hermione said. "But Harry needs to start being more mindful of his things around
Draco."

Theo dug around in his pocket and took out the map he referenced.

"Harry let me borrow this," he said, blushing when she raised her eyebrow at him. "I needed
something to make sure Titus doesn't find me here alone. I'd be flayed alive."

She gave him a quick hug and a kiss on the cheek.

"Have fun," he said. "Make sure you put him in his place a time or two."

"You don't need to worry about that." Hermione flicked her hair off her shoulder. "It's my
speciality."

She climbed the rickety stairs to the astronomy tower, even as her stomach swooped in protest
against the idea of being so far above the ground - much higher than the treehouse.

Draco waited for her at the top, giving a wicked grin that made her stomach flutter. He had a book
bag over his shoulder and held a broom in one hand and a cloak in the other—Harry's cloak.

"Where are you taking me?"

"It's a surprise."

Hermione didn't like surprises. She liked to anticipate things. The unknown annoyed her. She
glared at the broom in his hand, not liking the conclusions she jumped to.

"I'm not sure you know this, but I don't participate in broom travel."

"Oh, I know that," he said with a nod. "Unfortunately, there's no other way to get there." He held
out the cloak. "Here, put this on."

She grabbed it, liking the feeling of the fabric under her fingers, and wrapped it around her on top
of her other cloak, flicking the hood up, only letting her face peek through.

"Wicked!" Hermione looked down to find her body had vanished. "This is a much better cloak
than the one Titus has. I wonder how it's lasted this long. Invisibility cloaks rarely survive more
than a few years. It's an heirloom of Harry's, correct?"

Draco hesitated, as if wondering what her reaction to it would be.

"Correct," he finally said. "I'm afraid you won't be able to take this one out from under my nose. I
wanted to spank you when I discovered your last little trick with the map, and I'm not sure I could
control the urge a second time."

A blush raced across her cheeks at the thought of being bent over Draco's knee, his hand coming
down on her arse. In all her different fantasies, she'd never thought of that before.

"We'll see," she said.

"Now that introductions are out of the way, hop on." He straddled the contraption, leaving enough
room on the back for her.

"Not in a million years. You'll just have to create some other date."

He smiled. She smiled back. He smiled bigger. Then her smile died, knowing what he planned.
But it was too late to avoid it.

He kicked off with a jolt and propelled forward, swooping her up and behind him. She barely had
enough time to place her arms around his waist before he barreled into open air.

After four barrel rolls, three sharp dives, and two swift turns, Draco heeded her panicked cries.

"Put me down!" Hermione's voice was hoarse from screaming. Freezing wind whipped against her
face.

Still metres from the ground, she jumped off the broom, braving a broken neck from the tumble
rather than one more second in the air. She hit the ground hard, but after a moment of laboured
breathing, she stood without any injuries.

"Are you insane?" Draco landed and jumped from his broom with grace, going straight into a walk.

When Draco reached her, he grabbed her by the shoulders and began to pat her down.

"What are you doing?"

"Checking for injuries, you silly bint." His hands ran down her arms, then down her waist, then
slower down her legs. She held her breath the entire time.

"I'm fine." She stepped away from him.

Hermione examined the small circular glade they'd landed in. The thick trees of the Forbidden
Forest surrounded her like menacing guards, and a line of black obsidian sat against the tree line—
a protection against dark magic and nefarious intruders. She felt the hum of blood wards from here.
Violets and Queen of the Nights sprung from the ground, opening their purple petals to the sky in
an ancient worship of the sun. Hermione did the same, flinging back her arms and turning her face
upward, taking a long drink of the surprising warmth. Life and magic buzzed around her.

"Where are we?"

"My great great grandfather created it," Draco answered, staring at her joy in an intense way. "He
wanted a safe space for his heirs if Hogwarts ever fell during a war, but really it's only been used
for— well, for things just like this."

Draco leaned back on his heels, then stood, shrugging off his outer robes. Warming charms must
have been embedded in the wards, because it felt like a wonderful late spring day in the middle of
winter. She took off both the cloaks, finding it too hot.

Malfoy opened the bag and began rummaging through it, lifting out more items than it could
reasonably hold, showing it must have a charm on it similar to her purse.

A blanket came out first, and then several pillows. From the colours, he'd probably pilfered them
from the Slytherin common room. The food came next: fresh fruit, fried fish, butterbeer, rolls. And
every assortment of dessert: chocolate frogs, dainty tea cakes, pumpkin pasties, cauldron cakes.

When he'd finished setting up, Draco sat down on the blanket and patted the spot next to him. She
walked over, attempting to control her heart rate, which was rising the longer she spent in Draco's
presence.

"You planned a picnic?" Hermione asked while sitting down, letting a smile peek through. "Is this
what people normally do on dates?"

He stared at the smile she gave him and paused.

"I'm not sure, but I'm hungry."

The desire for talk vanished as they devoured the food, eating each dish with exultation. The
longer she sat in the sun, the farther her guard came down.
If a person would have told her as a child that she'd be sitting in a secret glade with Draco Malfoy
eating strawberries in compatible silence, she might have packed their bags and sent them to St.
Mungo's Janus Thickey Ward. But here she was…

Draco started off on the other side of the blanket, food set between them, but by the end of the
meal he was lying dangerously close to her lap, a book open in one hand and a struggling chocolate
frog in the other. The light of the sun played beautifully off his pale features, and she tried not to
notice the way his unfairly long eyelashes brushed his face with each blink, or that up close she
could see almost translucent freckles scattered across his nose.

When he noticed her examination, he squinted up into the sun. He brought the strings down to save
his place before closing his book. She appreciated how gently he handled books. Theo always
saved his spot by leaving the book open, pages down, often tragically ruining the spine.

Draco grabbed her hand. The skin-to-skin contact felt like a jolt. On instinct, she almost tugged her
hand away, but his hold was gentle, so she let him cradle it as he studied her palm. With his index
finger, he traced the lines in contemplation and followed the one which curved down.

"You have a long lifeline."

Hermione hated divination and thought all of it to be hogwash. She couldn't quite read if Draco
was being serious or not.

"I never took you for the type to believe in fate," she said.

"Of course I believe in fate. If you haven't figured it out yet, we're meant to be together. A million
different lifetimes, and I think it would always be you and me."

How ridiculous.

"That makes it sound as if we love each other, which—I can assure you—we do not. I just barely
tolerate you."

He scoffed.

"Of course we don't love each other. That will come with time. I doubt you can resist me for long."

He was so sure and confident. She wished to bring him back to reality.

"You have a third of a chance," she said. "That's fairly good odds, but I hardly believe we're fated."

He frowned, ignored her, and kept tracing. "You encompass great wisdom and knowledge." He
squinted again. "So far nothing surprising. And see this one—" He showed her the line on top. It
was deep and dark and long, as if a great scar on her palm, "With that heart line you could have
been in Hufflepuff."

"I'm not sure if that was a compliment or an insult."

"An insult for sure."

"For your information, I'm entirely Gryffindor."

He gave an exaggerated grimace.

"That's worse."
She swatted his arm in mock outrage. In retaliation, he laughed and gripped her wrist - and in a
single motion, flipped her onto her back so he was hovering over her. They both stopped, still as
statues, sensing a change in the atmosphere. He'd straddled her waist, bent down enough that his
mouth was next to her chin. His lips just barely brushed the skin, teasing, gentle, until he made his
way to her lips. This felt different from the last time, slower, more serious. Like he could explore
her skin all day and never feel sated.

It scared her. Hermione made a noise and jerked away. Draco stopped and looked down in
confusion.

"Are you alright?"

"This is…"

Too much, too fast. She had planned for physical interactions: backs against stone walls, hands
roaming, lips ravaging her in passion. Anything to do with real emotions was dangerous, because
she refused to fall for someone she'd need to say goodbye to.

He wrinkled his brow, lips almost pulling into a sneer. He seemed to catch on to her thoughts,
because he lifted away from her, leaving her oddly cold, even with the sunshine.

She'd hurt his feelings with her sudden rejection. Another surprise—Draco Malfoy had feelings
that could be hurt.

He moved to the other side of the blanket, studying her. He wore the same type of piercing stare
Titus did, as if he was trying to view into her mind and rip out her secrets.

Draco reached back into his bag, pulling out two tumblers and a bottle of firewhisky.

"Care for a drink?"

Hermione hesitated but nodded. She'd never tried alcohol, except for a glass of wine.

He poured the amber liquid into a glass and handed it to her. She sloshed it around for a second
before downing it in one gulp. It burned through her, making her gag with the unpleasant taste.

"That's foul. How do people drink this stuff for fun?"

Draco raised one eyebrow.

"You might want to go slow. This is the good stuff. It comes from my own stores. If you're not
careful you'll get—"

"Drunk? Isn't that the point?"

He tilted his head to the side, considering her. In answer, he tipped his own glass back and downed
it.

"Sure, but I doubt Titus would be too happy if Theo returned you to him sloshed."

He was right. The stuff was potent. The fire already bloomed in her belly, travelling through her
veins— just enough to feel relaxed.

"Well, you needn't worry." She gave a shiver of disgust. "I refuse to take another swallow of that
poison. You can punish yourself with the rest."
"Fine with me. Not everyone can have a developed palate," Draco teased, and Hermione rolled her
eyes. "Do you want to play a game?"

"Chess again?"

A smirk curled Draco's lips, and Hemrione knew he was up to no good.

"I have a different game in mind."

"What?"

Draco fiddled with his wand, letting it twist through his fingers.

"Truth or dare."

"The children's game?"

"No, the adult one."

Wizarding truth or dare—the same game Theo was stupid enough to get entangled with. It was
illegal for minors to play because the consequences were serious. She'd heard of a woman whose
hair had fallen out permanently. But that was a minor consequence. Most of the time, cowardice
and lying resulted in disfigurement, pain, or even death in rare cases. It wasn't something to
just play.

"That doesn't sound fun at all."

"Scared?" He taunted. "I thought you just said you were a Gryffindor."

Why did he always make her feel mildly violent? He knew the right words to get her to play. It was
manipulation, and she sighed, knowing he'd already won. She should absolutely not be playing
truth or dare with Malfoy. He was far too clever and determined, already planning his next move
and contingent move in advance.

"Alright."

"Then hold out your hand, so we can play this properly."

She hesitated but reached out. He gripped her wrist, turning it over, saying the truth or dare
incantation, binding them into a contract until the game was finished. "We'll complete three
rounds," Draco said, looking dangerous. "And the consequence for not complying with the rules is
that you'll feel like you'll need to sneeze without being able to sneeze… for an entire month."

The magic sizzled into her skin, a warning. Afterwards, she tugged her hand back.

"That's quite possibly the most diabolical consequence I've ever heard," Hermione said, rubbing at
her wrist.

"I can be creative when it comes to cruelty, so I'd advise you to answer my questions truthfully and
comply with my dares," Draco said. "Now, go ahead, ask me first."

"Truth or dare?" Hermione asked.

"Truth."

Hermione paused, thinking.

"Why do you think we're fated? I mean, I'm flattered, but we've only had a few interactions in our
life."

Draco's mouth twisted into tight lines. "Fuck, straight for my throat. I should have known you'd be
ruthless." He gave a heavy sigh and stared at the trees, as if wondering how to say what he wanted
to articulate. Whatever it was, it needed to be the complete truth. Maybe he was already regretting
playing it with her."I was there the day my mother died. Did you know that?"

Hermione's heart dropped at what he referenced. She'd heard the story in bits and pieces over the
years. Theo's parents had visited Malfoy Manor for a Beltane celebration. Titus had been busy with
friends, and Theo had been sick. If not, they'd have both been there too.

Many of the guests had been in the main room, and her father somehow sent an explosive through
the floo, bypassing the wards, something the purebloods thought impossible. It killed several
purebloods, most of them women. The true war started that day— the moment when wizards
realised the muggles could pose a threat.

"No," Hermione said, softly. "I didn't."

"Well, I'd been jumping off a chair, being naughty, despite my mother telling me to stop, when the
device fell through. Everyone stared at it in confusion, but my mum knew something was wrong
and threw up a Protego around me right before it exploded." He stopped his story for a moment,
and she thought it might be to control the slight quiver in his voice. "Blood and body parts were
everywhere. I— I saw— her body was mangled, but surprisingly, her face was untouched. I sat
there and stared at her while wizards sifted through the chaos. At one point, I tried to grab her
hand, but it— they were gone. Her arms, her legs, her lower body…" He frowned, his gaze empty,
as if he was seeing it all again. "Nothing was left. " He glanced back into the trees, lips pulling into
a frown. "I stayed there until my father found me."

How horrid. Her stomach lurched. Hermione wished she'd asked a different question.

"I'm sorry," she said, but he wasn't done.

"When your father died, I saw you staring at his body, and— and I knew then that you might be
the only person in the whole world that might understand. The moment seared into me. I'll never
forget your expression. I— fuck, Granger— I hated my father for doing that to you, because I knew
how it felt. It's a terrible void inside you that will never go away."

He was right about that.

"Theo would understand."

"No." Draco shook his head. "He lost his parents, which is atrocious, but— he didn't see it happen.
Not like we did. Don't you understand? The violence bonded us. Your father killed my mum, and
my father killed your dad. It should be unforgivable, but things were meant to be forgiven between
us. A balance in the universe. My mother's death had to have meant something, and that something
was fate leading me to you."

The logic was distorted, but she thought she understood. They were both broken creatures,
damaged at a young age, clinging to anything that felt like hope. At least she'd had Theo to heal
with. Draco had no one except Lucius. She couldn't imagine the loneliness paired with the pain.
Maybe that was why he'd been so adamant to be her friend, so focused on making a connection.

Maybe he didn't have any true friends at all.

Hermione didn't believe in fate, but she did believe in the ability to choose a destiny, and Draco had
chosen her. The problem was, she didn't know if she should choose him.

"Is that the only reason?"

"Of course not. You also have magnificent tits."

She picked up a pillow and whacked him over the head with it. When she went to whack him a
second time, he ripped it from her hands, giving a deep belly laugh.

"Oi, I meant a magnificent brain, Granger. No need to get violent."

His laughter felt contagious, dispelling the gravity of the situation. Before she could speak, the
magic sizzled under her skin, signalling he told the whole truth, and it was his turn to ask her.

She sat back with apprehension.

"Truth or dare?" Draco asked.

Hermione decided to play it safe, wary of what he'd conjure up with a dare.

"Truth."

His grin was slow, one tooth at a time, as if he was hoping she'd say that.

"Do you find me attractive?"

Hermione withheld her annoyance, pursing her lips.

"Yes, you egotistical prat. What a waste of a question. Of course, you're attractive, you self-
centered mandrake. You already knew that."

She threw another pillow at him, but she missed, much to his amusement.

"I just needed to make sure. I mean, I sort of guessed when you had your tongue in my mouth. It's
just pleasant to hear."

Draco leaned back on his hands, having way too much fun with this.

"Truth or dare?" She asked, ire rising, unsure if she was having fun or not.

"Truth," he said.

She took a moment to think.

"Do you… do you find me attractive? I know you have some convoluted reason why we should be
together, but you never mentioned if you wanted to be with me— in that way."

She'd never say it out loud, but a deep part of her wanted to find… something. Maybe love. Desire.
Passion. One summer, she'd found an old romance novel that had been Theo's mother's, and she'd
read it over and over, especially the part where they kissed and the boy confessed his undying love.
The Trials already stole that hope from her. She understood the sacrifice now. She couldn't love a
boy. Not until she knew who she'd be given to, and even then, she'd just have to hope they'd grow
to care for each other. Hermione wasn't foolish enough to believe in happily ever after.

But she wanted it desperately.

Draco may just want her for a friend. Maybe he just wanted a muggleborn to breed. Or maybe he
just wanted her because his father pushed her toward him.

Or—the most terrible conclusion— maybe he was lying to her about everything, only pursuing her
for the status she'd bring him.

She needed to know the truth, so that she'd never doubt it.

"Am I attracted to you?" He asked, as if it was the most foolish question she'd ever asked. "Have
you seen yourself? Does Titus forbid you mirrors? The Trials can go in the bin. Even without them,
I'd make you mine." He leaned forward, looking serious. "Since the Yule ball, I haven't been able
to think of anything else. My dreams are filled with you, imagining every part of your body. I can
barely eat on the days I know you'll be close. If I could, I'd take you to my bed right now and show
you exactly how attractive I think you are."

The magic sizzled, and Hermione knew without a shadow of a doubt that he wanted her despite
circumstance. She attempted to control the way her hands trembled with the thought. How did
people deal with this attraction? It made her want to disintegrate. Her heart beat in a dangerous
fashion. It felt like flying, a terrible tumble of her stomach. It should be exhilarating, but it terrified
her.

"Truth or dare?" He asked.

"Truth."

He pulled his bottom lip into his mouth and then slowly released it with a pop. After a moment, he
titled his head, and Hermione understood whatever he thought of would make her squirm.

"Have you ever masturbated to the thought of me?"

"Masturbate— what does that mean?"

"Let me rephrase." His grin almost turned evil. "Have you ever touched your cunt to the thought of
me?"

She'd never heard it called a cunt, but she understood now what he'd asked.

Hermione's insides froze, everything inside her twisting. Her cheeks must match the Gryffindor
colours.

The magic under the skin of her wrist zapped with each second that ticked by.

"Come on, Granger," Draco urged. "You need to answer before it starts to hurt."

It only took a few more warning zaps before she caved.

"Yes!" Hermione placed her head in her hands, unable to look at Draco in her mortification. When
she finally regained her courage and looked at him, he wore a smug expression.

"More than once?" He asked.

"I don't have to answer another question."

"You're protesting too much, so I bet you have."

It had been far more than twice, but he'd need to rip that fact from her mind with legilimency
before she'd ever tell him.

"Last round," Hermione said sharply, wanting to change the subject. "Truth or dare?"

"Dare."

That surprised her. He just gave her power over him. What did she want him to do? Honestly, she
wanted him to be humiliated, just like she had been.

"Get naked," she said, and then amended. "Except your boxers."

"I'm not sure what you intended with this dare, but you're making this too easy. I'll undress for you
anytime you want." He stood up and tugged off his shirt, revealing his pale chest. Though thin, his
shoulders were broad with a trim waist, giving the impression he'd fill out in his shoulders like his
handsome father. The muscles in his stomach and along his arms were defined, visible as he
moved.

He was… breathtaking.

Hermione instantly knew she'd made a mistake with her dare. When Draco tugged at his trousers,
pushing them down and discarding them, Hermione's mouth watered at the sight he presented.
She'd meant to make him uncomfortable, but it only left her feverish.

"Now you have some new images to think of when you're rubbing one out." He winked while
sitting down, carefree even while mostly naked.

Ugh, she wished she had more pillows to beat him with.

"Last one. Truth or dare, Granger?" He asked, giving a sideways smile.

Hermione feared any more questions from him. He'd already made her admit to masturbating to
him, and she just knew the next one would be equally mortifying.

"Dare."

"I'd hoped you'd say that. After all, it's only fair." He gave a slow look up and down. "I dare you to
keep all your clothes on… except your knickers. And then I want you to give them to me."

"Give them to you?" Hermione asked in shock.

The magic zapped her a few times while she stared at him dumbly before she complied with the
demand. It was fair, she supposed, though she wasn't sure why he'd want her knickers.

Hermione stood up and then bent over a little to give herself some privacy, trying not to think
about what she was doing. She hooked the edge of her knickers under her thumbs and tugged them
down. Luckily, she'd worn a pretty pair today, red silk with lace trim.

When she pulled them off, she hesitated with handing them over, but the magic couldn't be denied,
not unless she wanted to almost sneeze for a month.

Draco got up just enough to snag them. He stared at her knickers in his hand a moment, stroking his
thumb over the place that had touched her cunt before throwing them near his trousers.

"You'll never see those again, I'm afraid."

Hermione sat down, making sure her dress thoroughly covered her bare private areas.
"What now?" She asked. "The game is over."

Draco got on his knees and started moving toward her. It took all her Gryffindor courage to stay in
place.

"Now, I want to kiss you."

She wanted that too, but as he kneeled before her, the same doubt entered her that stopped her from
exploring the previous time. He was nearly naked, and she didn't have any knickers. They both
knew this could lead to something they shouldn't be doing.

He gently grabbed her shoulders and pulled her to her knees, so she faced him. His hand cradled
her jaw as he dragged his thumb along her lips.

There were no words as he leaned forward, eyes on her. Just the distant trill of birds and buzz of
insects typical of a forest. The silence awoke the nerves along her skin as his lips skimmed against
her mouth.

Hermione let her hands rest on his chest. He choked out a desperate sound at the contact, as if he'd
been starved for touch, and his mouth finally pressed hard into hers.

Maybe he was starving for touch. She wondered how many times he'd had physical affection in his
life with only Lucius in the household.

His skin resembled porcelain—so pale it looked cold— so she was surprised by the burning
warmth under her fingertips. He shivered as she stroked and explored the tight muscles on his
chest.

Both his hands traced down the silhouette of her curves through her dress, going further and further
down, until his fingertips rested on the edge of her dress pooling against the blanket she kneeled
on.

His fingers slipped under the hem and touched her knees, causing her breath to hitch.

She'd never been a person to be self-conscious, but she'd also never had a situation where she
needed to be. His destination was clear, fingers dragging up achingly slow along her outer thigh.
Besides herself, no one else had ever touched her there.

"I–I'm not sure."

He stopped instantly like the last time.

"You're overthinking this again," he said. "I can almost see that big brain of yours twisting. Feel
my heart, Granger." As if he'd given her a dare, her right hand moved over, resting over his
ribcage. The organ thumped furiously under her fingers, showing this made him as nervous and
excited as it did to her. "You see," he said, eyes half-closed, concentrating on her lips with his
mercury stare. "We're the same."

"How many times have you done this?"

His fingers still stayed in the same spot, as if waiting for the command to move.

"Never," he admitted.

She wondered if she believed him. But the tremble of his fingers on her thighs couldn't be faked—
a scorching desire.

Why shouldn't she discover something new? And just like the kiss, even if she was abnormal, how
would he know? The thought soothed her fears, and she felt ready to proceed.

"This is just experimenting," she reminded him.

He gave an exaggerated roll of his eyes. "Whatever you want to believe, Granger. We'll see what
you think after I've learned what makes you cum."

She almost corrected him, but his fingers moved up again, distracting her. She began to pant as he
reached her upper thigh and then her hips.

"Our bodies are made for this," he whispered, while edging to her center. Her whole body began to
throb. Her core clenched as his fingers dipped down, finally reaching their destination, and she
gave a soft whimper as he stroked. "Tell me exactly what you like."

He explored her gently. Much too gently, touching everywhere but where she wanted. After a few
moments, it began to frustrate her. It occurred to her that if this was Draco's first time, maybe he
didn't know what he was doing either. They'd need to teach each other everything.

She'd touched herself enough to know what she liked. What he was doing felt good, but it wasn't
what was going to send her to bliss. She reached down and brought his thumb to her to the sensitive
spot.

"Right here." She guided his finger in a firm circular motion. "Like this. It's where girls feel the
most."

She thought he might get offended, but he nodded and brushed his thumb right where she asked,
and her body rocked into the movement, chasing more.

Draco gave an audible groan at her reaction.

"That's your clit," he said.

"How do you know?"

"Blaise likes to sneak in muggle porn. Let's just say… I've studied it."

She didn't know what porn was, but when he circled her clit again, she stopped caring.

"More," she said, breathless.

"More what?"

"I'm not sure."

"I think I have an idea."

His finger slid down along her slit, embarrassingly wet, and then slowly dipped inside her.

"Oh, fuck," she said,feeling surprised. Her nails clenched into his bare skin, as he pushed it all the
way inside her.

"You feel perfect."

She separated her legs on instinct, allowing him easier access. He went deeper than she expected.
Before she could analyse it further, he slid in a second finger. It stretched her, almost feeling
painful. She'd tried something similar one time with her own fingers, but she'd never gotten deep or
tight like this. She whimpered against his lips, her nerves on fire from the sudden jolt of
satisfaction.

"My clit," she begged. His thumb went back to what he'd been doing while he slowly pushed in and
out. And then the palm of his hand rubbed against her, and she cried out.

"Just like that. Don't change anything." He studied her expressions as he moved, as if testing what
would make her moan or buck her hips. Like he was strategizing how to conquer her body. He
learned fast, following her instructions, both verbal and nonverbal, on what felt good.

And oh, did it feel good. Better than she thought it would. She lost her inhibitions as his fingers
explored. An intense curiosity overcame her.

"Can I see it?" She begged.

"See what?"

"Yours."

"My cock?"

Was that what it was called? She nodded her head.

He grinned and shoved down the fabric just enough to pull it out. It stood erect, long and hard, with
a slight curve and thicker than she thought it would be—though she'd had nothing to compare it to.
It seemed large to her, but it could be below average for all she knew. She examined it in a lust-
filled haze and let her curiosity guide her.

"Can I touch it?"

He glanced up to the clouds, as if praying to a deity.

"Can you touch it?" He scoffed. "I've thought of nothing else for years. Experiment as much as you
want, and you don't have to be gentle."

She did what she wanted, letting her hand trail down the length. Draco kept taking jerky, sharp
breaths, the muscles in his stomach bunching. When she wrapped her hand around it, he tilted his
head to the sky again. "Bloody hell."

The knowledge that she was causing this reaction—Draco Malfoy unravelling under her touch—
made her feel powerful.

"Up and down," he hissed between clenched teeth. "Like this." He wrapped his free hand around
hers, showing her what he liked.

She tried what he said, practising different speeds and grips as he pushed his hips forward, grunting
and mumbling curses.

He began to move his fingers inside her again, and she didn't even try to withhold her moan, urging
him on. In tandem, they pleasured each other.

"The sounds you're making—" Draco's voice deepened. "They'll be my downfall. You've ruined
me."

His free hand wrapped around her back, pressing them tight together, keeping her upright, giving
just enough room to continue exploring each others' bodies.

The words, paired with him playing with her clit just right, fingers filling her, caused a sudden
orgasm to crash over her—much stronger than she'd ever experienced by herself. He swallowed her
satisfied moan with his lips, eyes open, as if in wonder, as if he couldn't believe what he'd just
done. After the wave crashed and ebbed, she wished to sink to the ground in exhaustion, but she
wanted to see him finish too. She tugged on him again, like he'd taught her.

"I'm getting close," he said through clenched teeth. "It won't take much." It sounded like he was on
the edge of pain, but she knew from experience it was just the precipice to pleasure. He slid his
fingers out of her and placed them next to his lips.

"What are you doing?" She asked.

"Tasting you." He licked his fingers and groaned, closing his eyes as if savouring it. Leaning his
head forward to rest against her shoulder blade, his mouth pressed to her neck as he kept praising
her. "Just like that," he said. "I knew you'd be so good at this. Such a fucking swot. Always want to
be the best."

Though she fought the label, she was a bit of a swot, always seeking praise from her tutors.
Nothing made her more content. The praise Draco gave made desire spike through her again.

"I'm cumming," he warned, and gave a single violent jerk of his hips forward. Something came out
from the head of his cock. The white substance landed on her dress, and she let go in surprise. She
stared at it while he collected himself. Draco was panting. Red splotches decorated his chest,
checks, and neck from both her touch and his arousal.

"Fuck, Granger, that was the best—"

"What is this?" Hermione asked. Ever the curious person, she dipped a finger in the product of his
release and brought it up to look.

"It's cum," he said, looking disoriented, hands still trembling.

She assumed it was the stuff Katie had mentioned that made babies. Though, she didn't expect so
much of it.

Hermione wasn't sure why she did it. Maybe it was the thought of Draco sucking on his fingers
after they'd been inside her. He seemed to enjoy it, so she brought her finger to her mouth and
touched her tongue to the cum. It tasted salty and a little strange, and she didn't know if she liked it
or not. Still, she placed the finger in her mouth and sucked.

"That was so excruciatingly hot." He was panting harder, as if on the edge of control. "I promise
you— by the end of the school year, I'll win the Trials, and it will be my cock instead of my
fingers. You'll be mine."

"I think not."

He wrinkled his brow, and his whole body stilled, as if reentering reality.

"What the fuck do you mean?" His voice lowered.

"Titus is letting me wait until I'm twenty-one."

"Don't you want to come live with me? I thought— after graduation I'll be gifted the manor. My
father said he'd move to another property to give us privacy."

Hermione huffed out a breath.

Of course, his father would give them privacy, but it wasn't out of goodwill. He wanted little
Malfoy heirs.

Hermione hated that she wished to fall into something more than pleasure. Hated he was so fucking
confident with a future filled with uncertainty. Emotion was a luxury she couldn't afford.

"Malfoy… you might not win. I'm saying this seriously."

He sneered, as if hating her refusal to believe he'd win, just as much as she hated his belief. He
grabbed her face in a firm hold, pressing his fingers into her cheeks.

"You're going to be mine," he said, voice hard. "I'm not going to accept anything else."

"Well, you'll just have to wait, because I'm not doing the Trials yet."

"And why the fuck not?"

"I don't want a baby!"

The hand on her cheeks loosened, and he let her go.

She snapped her lips shut after, knowing that what she said was against all societal norms.
She should want a baby, but she didn't.

Drac stared at her and then gave a single sharp laugh.

"Thank fuck! I don't want one either."

"Really?" Hermione asked in confusion. "But you want me to go through the Trials?"

"So I can be with you. Not so I can knock you up with a snotty-nosed, screaming child."

"That makes no sense. If we have sex, I'd get pregnant."

Draco scoffed in amusement.

"Not if we use contraceptives."

"Contraceptives?" Hermione asked. "What are those?"

The clearing turned silent as Draco seemed to process her question.

"They really do keep you sheltered." Draco shook his head. "Contraceptives prevent pregnancy.
Granted they're illegal, but it's a hard law to enforce, and I don't like being told what to do in the
first place."

Hermione's whole world shifted on its axis. She'd always equated sex with babies. No one ever told
her differently. It was her divine purpose to help populate the wizarding world, a noble thing. She'd
always felt bad for wishing for a different path in her life. As much as she desired sex and
fantasized about it while lying in her sheets, she also feared it for its consequences.

She shuddered out a breath, feeling lighter than she had in a while. Draco just gave her an
unexpected gift. Sex without pregnancy. Pleasure without pain.

"You'd do that for me?"

"Of course."

"But wouldn't the officials suspect something if I'm not pregnant after a year? I thought they
investigated that stuff, and I doubt your father would be okay with it."

Draco paused, as if he hadn't thought of that. He stood up, accioing his clothes over.

"You're right." He sounded disappointed but resigned as he pulled on his trousers. "They'd
investigate. As much as I hate waiting, starting the Trials when we're older might be a better
option. Besides, there're plenty of things we can experiment with that won't result in pregnancy."
He winked and reached down a hand and tugged her up, cleaning her dress of all evidence.

"That might be difficult if we're unable to see each other after Hogwarts. Theo only has one game
left." She watched as Draco packed the picnic back into his bag.

"Don't worry about that," he said. "I'll figure out something."

They landed back on the Hogwarts astronomy tower. Compared to the last flight, this time he
eschewed tricks, placing her in front of him and allowing his arm to circle around her waist,
pressing them tight together while going at a slow pace. She laid her head on his shoulder,
surrounded by the invisibility cloak.

He pulled to a gentle stop when they entered the room, holding her waist while they dismounted.
She took off Harry's cloak and held it in her hands.

"Am I going to have to steal this too? Or will you do the right thing and give it back to Harry?"

"Being nice to Potter on purpose? I wouldn't hold your breath."

He talked a lot, but she held the cards.

"If you don't give it back, I'd be… angry."

"I like you angry. It makes me want to change your mind with my tongue." He looked at the way
she propped a hand on her hip and gave an amused snort. "Fine, I'll give it back, but only so I can
kiss you goodbye without any self-righteous rants."

Hermione opened her mouth to respond, but he tugged her into a fierce kiss, more aggressive than
any he'd ever given her before. She didn't want to leave his embrace, wishing she could choose to
do what she wanted. A sudden resentment toward Titus' rules bubbled up in her.

"What the fuck?" a male voice echoed around the tower.

They vaulted apart. Blaise Zabini stared at them with wide eyes, mouth open in shock, head
peeking over the stairs.

"Zabini…" Draco warned in a low voice. "What are you doing up here?"
"Nott was being a shifty fucker, so I decided to investigate. I think the better question is what
are you doing? Kissing a mudblood, and all alone. Titus Nott's house pet, at that! Now I understand
why Nott tried to stop me. You've got some solid brass balls, Malfoy."

Draco took a threatening step toward him, fists clenched.

"If you dare say a single word to Titus, I'll make sure you never say another one again. Am I clear?
Same for if you call her mudblood or house pet in my presence."

"You're starting to sound like a blood traitor."

A slash and flick of Draco's wand and Zabini lifted and slammed hard against a pole, sticking to it.
Hermione flinched in surprise at the sudden violence. Malfoy stomped forward, placing his wand
between the other boy's eyes.

"And you're starting to sound like a dead man. You think I wouldn't get away with murdering you?
You're just an inconsequential fuckup with a whore for a mother. No one would care."

Hermione expected to see some reaction to the insults Draco just threw at him, and he must be in
terrible pain from the hard throw of his body, but Zabini only gave a sly grin, like a spider
watching its prey.

"You may get out of going to Azkaban, but they'd look into my death." He leaned over and spit out
some blood. It coated his teeth with a crimson stain. She wondered if he'd bitten his tongue when
he struck the pole. "It would be a shame if Titus discovered you feeling up his beloved pet. I'm not
sure you'd survive the Butcher's anger— though there is another way. What will you give me for
my silence?"

Draco transferred his wand to Zabini's throat and pressed hard.

"The ability to live another day. And if you believe I'm exaggerating, you might as well crawl into
a grave and wait for me to finish the job. You can be a test subject for all of the dark spells in our
family grimoire I've been learning. Or… maybe I should just let my father handle it. Why even
bother getting my hands dirty when I can offload the task to someone else? I think he'd have fun
with my request, especially when I tell him how you just threatened to undermine all his careful
plans." She'd never heard Draco like this—violent, deadly, calm. She wondered if this was the
version of himself he showed everyone else.

At the mention of his father, a flash of fear crossed Zabini's face.

"I was kidding," Blaise said, though he still grinned in an irritating way. "I'm not going to say a
word. You know me."

"Yes, I fucking know you," Draco said. "So you don't fool me. Go on, Granger. Don't worry about
Blaise." He still pointed his wand at Zabini, keeping him pinned to the pole. "I'll make sure he
stays quiet, because he won't live long if he doesn't."

Hermione wished to tell Draco how much today meant to her. She'd never had so much fun. But
instead, she walked down the astronomy tower stairs with shaky legs. Just like with the wands,
Hermione had a horrible realisation of the consequences if she were caught. She'd treated their
dates like a fun game, an exciting thrill, but it could crash down around her.

Remembering the way Titus backed her into the wall, hand gripping her shoulder, training furious,
intelligent eyes on her, she no longer knew what he'd do if he discovered she not only kissed Draco
Malfoy, but allowed his fingers inside her.
 The Gift of the Universe
Chapter Notes

Song Suggestion: Crossfade- "Colors"

To answer a common question: the age difference between Titus and Hermione is nine
years. He's twenty-seven right now.

The next chapter will earn a trigger warning. From that point on, the tone of the story
will become darker, though I still consider it a slow boil to the darkest themes.

All the kudos to my BAMF beta, MyPrivateInsanity!

The Gift of the Universe

Christmas break arrived, and Hermione ran to greet Theo just as he got off the Hogwarts Express.
He wrapped his arms tight around her, lifting her in the air and twirling her.

"You're finally taller than me," she teased. He must have grown by four inches at least, making
him long and skinny. "It's not much of an accomplishment, but congratulations."

Theo rolled his eyes at her teasing and set her down.

"You and Malfoy have the exact same sense of humour. Maybe that's why he likes you. There's
finally someone mean enough for him."

"Of course, he likes me." Hermione gave a little flip of her hair. "Why shouldn't he?"

Titus, still much taller than his younger brother, stepped up behind Theo and put a hand on his
shoulder.

"I'm glad you're going to be home."

Theo stiffened. A strange, dark look crossed his features.

"Don't talk to me."

He shoved off his brother's hand and walked away.

Titus pulled back in confusion. He watched him until Theo walked far enough away, and then he
turned his attention to Hermione.

"What was that about?"

Hermione shrugged, but worry grew in her heart. She'd never seen Theo act so angry, especially
toward his brother.

They exited the train station in tense silence until they got to the muggle automobile they rented for
the trip. Hermione refused to fly, and apparition and floo were restricted around the train stations,
so it had always been tradition to drive to and from the nearest authorised floo. Though Titus hated
most muggle items, he did seem to enjoy driving their automobiles. Normally, he sped through the
city streets, grinning as he wove recklessly through traffic, almost making Hermione wish for a
broom ride.

This time he drove at a slower speed. His concern was obvious as he kept glancing in the rearview
mirror at his brother in the back glowered beside her. Usually, they spent their time telling stories
and jokes and catching up on what they missed while apart from each other, but all of his good
cheer at initially seeing her had faded into a seething anger.

"Let's just apparate now that we're far enough away from the station," Theo said. "I don't want to
be around you."

"Don't talk to me like that," Titus snapped.

"If I continue, would you curse me?"

"Of course not. Why are you acting like this?"

"Oh, I think you know exactly why I'm acting like this."

Hermione didn't like apparition with its unpleasant pop, feeling as if she'd been ground up and put
back together. She preferred floo, if possible, which is why Titus started the habit of driving. They
all enjoyed the tradition normally, and Hermione especially enjoyed the brief glance into muggle
London, so for Theo to want to deny her that meant something was very wrong.

Hermione reached out and touched Theo's arm. He flinched at the contact.

"Can you tell me what's wrong?"

He gave a loud, mocking laugh. It sounded odd coming out of his mouth. She'd never seen him in
such a bad mood.

"Wouldn't that be a shock for you?" His face softened just a tad. "You don't know who Titus even
is. The Butch—"

Titus slammed on the brakes, making them tumble forward into the seat in front of them.

"Theo… I've never laid a hand on you, but if one more word exits your mouth, I'll thrash you."

Hermione paused in shock, wondering what to do. She'd never heard them argue like this, with
physical threats.

A few cars honked their horns behind them, but Titus ignored them.

Hermione looked between the two, each glaring as if they might stab one another. Finally, Theo
jerked away and pushed open the door, climbing out and slamming it hard behind him. He paced
on the side of the street and then, as if he'd just remembered that he was seventeen and could
apparate by himself, he lifted his wand and disappeared.
"Are you alright, Hermione?" Titus asked in concern. "I stopped harder than I intended."

"I'm fine. Why is he angry?"

Titus sighed and ran a hand through his hair.

"I don't know."

But he refused to meet her eyes.

Titus took the long way. His hands gripped the steering wheel so hard the veins in his hands and
arms raised. They followed the meandering roads in silence, Titus' lips pressed tightly together.
Hermione kept her eyes on him, curious about his reaction.

She didn't ask him about the situation again. Not with the ugly mood he displayed.

When he finally stopped their car at the floo location, Titus walked around, opened the door, and
helped Hermione out.

"Theo will come around," she said. "Whatever he's upset about doesn't change the fact you're his
brother, and he loves you."

He let out a long sigh, releasing some of the tension in his body.

"I hope you're right." He clenched his teeth a moment and glanced away. "I have an idea of what's
wrong, and—sometimes my job requires me to make hard decisions, and they aren't for the soft-
hearted. Nothing I do is out of cruelty but necessity."

"You don't have to convince me you aren't cruel, Titus."

In response, he gave a small nod, though he still refused to look her in the eye. He ran a stressed
hand through his hair, making it stick up a little.

"Alright, it's time to get home. Maybe Theo's cooled off a little."

Theo had not cooled off. In fact, he refused to cool off for days, unwilling to tell Hermione the
issue.

"Titus won't allow me to discuss it without him present." He said the last part with undisguised
resentment.

Hermione felt like she was in the middle of a war. Titus, silent and brooding. Theo, angry and
short-tempered. Neither of them were pleasant company, so she spent her days attempting to help
Bitty do chores, much to the little elf's distress. Hermione stopped after she folded her own clothes,
almost causing Bitty to iron her fingers.

By the time Christmas Eve arrived, Hermione reached the end of her mental rope. Dinner was a
silent battle, the two Notts glaring at each other across the table, the only sounds the clink of
glasses and cutlery. Finally, Hermione slammed her fork down so hard Titus popped briefly out of
his concentrated fury.

"Alright, enough of this," she said. "Either you two go outside and fight it out physically—which,
if you do, go easy on him, Titus—or someone is going to tell me what's going on, because I refuse
to tiptoe around either of you."
She looked over at Theo. To her surprise, his eyes looked a little red, as if he might cry.

"Will you tell her, or should I?"

"Theo—" Titus whispered.

"Titus killed Harry's father."

Hermione gasped and dropped the glass of water she'd been holding. It rolled across the table and
clattered to the floor. The spilled water steadily dripped off the table's edge as Hermione stared at
Titus in shock. A flash of panic crossed his face at her inspection.

"He was in the Order, Hermione. I had—"

"There was no proof of that!" Theo shouted, standing up with a screech of his chair.

"There was enough circumstantial evidence, including recent correspondence with Sirius Black,"
Titus said. "And he tried to kill me!"

"No, he tried to kill Snape, because he's an evil arse."

"You weren't there. He attempted to fucking Avada me," Titus said in a low voice. "And that's
Headmaster Snape to you. I don't care if you loathe him, you'll show him proper respect."

"No, it's Snape," Theo spat the name. "Nothing but a snivelling little reject. Mr. Potter only fought
because Snape threatened to take his wife. Any normal bloke would do the same. What would you
do if someone marched in here and tried to take Hermione?"

Titus scowled as if just the thought made him violent.

"That's different. It would be within my rights to eviscerate any man who dared try to touch her.
But James interfered with an investigation and attacked an auror—"

"James—" Hermione interrupted, trying to place the name. " James Potter?" All the pieces clicked
together, remembering Snape's discussion with Titus at the quidditch match. The conversation
revealed its dark undertones. Hermione's eyes widened in realisation.

She bit her tongue, wondering what to say. The clock ticked in the background as they stared at
each other in tense silence.

"What's going to happen to Harry?" She asked. The words felt like lead.

Theo made a distressed noise at the question, but he quickly swallowed any other reaction.

"Tell her, Titus."

Titus clenched his teeth in what must be frustration or anger. Maybe a suppressed guilt.

"His mother will be going to live with Severus as his breeder. All three children will relocate with
her."

Hermione didn't stop her horrified gasp.

"Couldn't she have gone to someone else?"

"Because of her age, only Snape put in for her. Or maybe no one did because it was Snape in the
running. He's a formidable wizard." Titus shrugged. "We tried to convince him to compete for a
younger one, but he insisted on caring for Lily."

Caring for Lily. What a fucking lie.

"And Harry?" Hermione asked, voice now almost a whisper. Any louder and something inside her
would snap.

"He—"

"Snape tried to send him to live with his horrid muggle aunt and uncle," Theo cut in.

"That's distorting the truth." Titus turned his attention to Hermione. "Harry attempted to curse
Severus at Hogwarts, and the headmaster thought it prudent to control him with threats so the
dumb boy wouldn't get himself arrested, hurt, or killed. He saved his life. Snape loves Lily, Theo.
He wouldn't do anything to her son."

Hermione didn't believe him. She remembered Snape's words now, about Lily's oldest son. He'd
complained the boy was too much like his father. If he got a chance to get rid of Harry, he might
take it.

She did know one thing: what Snape did to Lily was pain, not love.

Theo picked up his plate, still filled with food, and flung it across the table. It missed his target
completely, but the intent was clear. Theo's chest rose and fell at a rapid rate, and his glasses slid
down his nose.

"That's a fucking lie!" He roared. "Snape's always hated Harry, and now he has to live with the
man responsible for the death of his father, because of you."

"James Potter is responsible for his own death."

Theo pointed his wand at his brother in a rage.

"I wouldn't do that, Theo. You can't win against me."

"Maybe I want you to curse me, so you'll finally show Hermione exactly who you are."

Titus' upper lip curled, and he reached in his pocket and set his curved wand next to his spoon on
the table.

"Stop being foolish. Why are you even friends with a blood traitor's son?" Titus asked in a cruel
voice she'd never heard.

"Because—" Theo's arms shook. Tears slipped free from his eyes, sliding past his glasses.
"Because he's my only—and now he won't want to be anymore. Not after you murdered his father,
and I don't blame him. Why would anyone want to be my friend after this?"

"Theo—"

"I hate you."

"You don't mean—"

"I mean everything."

"Don't you dare walk—"

"I can't wait to leave the manor, so I never have to see you ever again. You're not my brother
anymore."

Titus reared back as if he'd been stuck.

Silence.

Theo gave one last shiver of fury and then turned and stalked out of the room. Hermione watched
as Titus sucked in a pained breath and blinked rapidly. Theo wounded him in a deep way, but
maybe he deserved it - though Theo shouldn't have said the last bit, even in anger.

Everything inside Hermione revolted at the thoughts inside her. She couldn't imagine being in
Lily's place. Because it wasn't just living with him. Titus downplayed the horror. By ministry
order, a muggleborn and her wizard must attempt to produce children. She'd need to enter the bed
of the man who orchestrated her husband's murder, and no matter what Titus said, it had been
planned by Snape. He'd probably taunted James on purpose, knowing the outcome.

"And you?" Titus asked, talking through his teeth. "Do you hate me too today? Go on and speak. I
can tell you want to. Don't hold back. You might as well say it all."

Hermione ignored the hateful tone, counting her breaths so she didn't say something she didn't
mean.

"Harry was one of Theo's only friends," she attempted to explain.

Titus focused on the opposite wall. He grabbed his wand and repocketed it.

"It's not like I meant to kill James," he bit out. "We found the letters, so we had to investigate. I
didn't have a choice, and then Snape showed up unannounced and, in a panic, James tried to curse
me. Would you rather I'd died?" He took a deep breath, flaring his nostrils. "Snape meant for him
to get arrested, not— It doesn't matter. I can't change what happened. Besides, Theo should be
spending more time with wizards with good connections anyway. Maybe this will help him step
out of his bubble a little."

Hermione reached down and gripped her fork to give her an anchor to hold onto, so she didn't
attempt to stab him.

"That's not how friendship works."

Titus' eyes snapped to hers, narrowing in a sharp anger. The look chilled her as it locked onto her
face.

"How would you know?" He hissed with a snarl. "You're judging me for something you don't even
understand. You know nothing about real life, Hermione, absolutely nothing, and you never will.
Why am I even asking your opinion? You've barely even been outside of this manor. I've given you
a lot of freedom—more than any other muggleborn I know—but maybe it's time you start learning
your place. You can focus on your books and daydreams and stay the fuck out of my business."

As soon as he was done speaking, he lost his snarl. The ticking clock grew louder in the sudden
silence. She felt slapped, as if something was jolted inside her, landing her in a new reality.

"Is that what you really think of me?" She stood up, straightening her skirt. "Tell me—what exactly
is my place in this household? I thought it was a position of respect, a position of value. The auror
that tried to kidnap me was convinced you see me as a pet. I refused to believe it, but maybe he had
a point."

Titus stood up too, eyes widening.

"Sprite—"

"Don't call me that. If I'm nothing but a house pet, then don't pretend I'm anything more."

She began walking away, unwilling to stay a second longer in his presence.

Titus chased after her.

"Stop," he demanded.

She paused her furious exit.

"As my master commands."

She'd never called him "master" in her life. She didn't need to look at Titus to know he flinched at
the term.

"Don't say—I didn't mean it." He touched the small of her back, chest nearly pressed against her,
breath tickling her neck. She trembled in repressed rage. "Please, look at me. You're not a pet.
You're my—of course, I value—"

"Yes."

"What do you mean, yes?"

"The answer to your question," she spat. "I think I do hate you today."

His hand fell from her as she walked out of the room, unwilling to look back.

When she got far enough away, she heard a loud crash as Titus swept the dinner service off the
table.

Hermione woke on Christmas morning to a knock on her door. She hesitated, already knowing who
it was, but she untangled herself from the sheets and padded over to the door. The cold floor chilled
her feet, and she crossed her arms. Despite warming charms, Nott manor was always a bit draughty
in the winter.

She opened the door to find Titus staring at her, looking sheepish. Hermione crossed her arms,
already on the defensive.

He looked ridiculously handsome in pyjama bottoms and a black undershirt, his dark hair
dishevelled from sleep. The sharp angles of his jaw had shadows of dark scruff, and his blue eyes
shone bright with hope.

"Theo's refusing to open presents. I just—it's Christmas, Sprite. You can hate me tomorrow, but
can we have a cease fire this morning?"

Hermione tapped her fingers in a distracted rhythm against her arm.

The thought of Titus killing James Potter made her stomach turn. However, if Mr. Potter cast the
first Avada, how could she fault Titus for defending himself? She hurt for Theo and for Harry, but
the loss didn't affect her personally. It was too complicated to sort through.

Her real anger stemmed from his cruel words. What he told her the night before still stung.

Maybe it's time you start learning your place.

Since she'd arrived at Nott manor, she'd never been spoken to like that. She'd always thought it was
because Titus never would, but maybe it was because she'd never contradicted him. Not in the
serious way she had in defence of Theo.

But, in the end, she didn't want to poison the day with her anger. "Alright," she agreed. "Only for
Christmas. You'll have to work much harder for my forgiveness this time."

His broad shoulders sagged in relief.

Hermione followed him to the front sitting room, where they usually set up a tree. Titus once told
her muggles associated the day with their mythical God. The old wizarding families called the day
Christmas, but the celebration was connected to Yuletide.

Every year they found a giant tree, reaching to the top of the vaulted ceiling, and decorated it with
floating candles and glass ornaments enchanted to show different moving pictures of the Nott
family. A new glass ball was added every Christmas, showing the highlights of the year. By this
point, she was on several, waving and smiling through the fragile orbs. Her first Christmas at the
manor, they had several real fairies pinned to the branches—a traditional wizard decoration. But
Titus stopped the inhumane custom when she told him it upset her. They'd since replaced them
with transfigured replicas.

When she entered the sitting room, magic snow floated down. It vanished as it landed. Bitty did not
disappoint with the decorations, hanging icicles in the windows and covering everything with
tinsel and shimmer charms.

Titus led her to the tree where he had already organised the presents into piles, ready to be torn
into, but she knew Theo's would stay wrapped. At least for now.

"Go on," he said.

She began opening, finding a new perfume from Tabitha and a few new books she'd wanted from
Theo, along with an embellished quill he'd made. Titus got her a lovely floor length red cloak.

"Thank you," she said after finishing.

He gave a crooked grin, showing one of his dimples.

"I have one more."

He passed her a small box with a blue bow on top. She looked at it in confusion and then gently
unravelled it.

When she opened the velvet box, she gasped. Inside was a beautiful crystal necklace in the shape of
a teardrop on a thick black ribbon. It seemed delicate, but she knew it was much sturdier than it
looked.

"It's goblin-made," Titus explained. He walked over and helped her clasp it on her neck. It fit
snugly around her throat. His calloused fingers brushed against the hair on the back of her neck as
he pulled away.

Goblin-made jewellery always held surprise enchantments.

"What does it do?"

He flicked up his wand and the curtains closed, darkening the room. He reached out and tapped the
crystal with his hand, and the whole room lit up.

The universe rotated around her. A replica of the moon hovered near her head, and the planets
twisted around the glowing sun.

"Wow," Hermione said in awe, realising it wasn't an image, but tangible. She touched a bright star,
and then an even smaller distant galaxy. It rested in her hands like a captured firefly. She walked
over and spun Venus on the tip of her finger and then traced Cassiopeia, connecting the dots. The
solid shapes felt cool under her hands, and they were light as a feather.

Titus watched her amazement with a gentle smile on his face. The shadows of stars crossed his
face.

"This is amazing," she said truthfully. Goblin-made jewellery was both expensive and rare. He
must have paid a bagful of galleons for it—maybe more than even the first edition of Hogwarts: A
History. "Why did you spend so much on me?"

"Didn't I say I'd give you the universe?"

Her heart began pounding under her ribs. The intense way he looked at her was making her a little
uncomfortable, and she wasn't sure if she wanted him to continue or not.

"I'm almost embarrassed at what I got you," she admitted.

Hermione had honoured tradition and made him something, but now she wished she'd given him
something better than an ugly homemade trinket.

"Nonsense," he said. "I love anything you give me."

"Anything?" Hermione teased.

"I take it back. Not anything. You're mischievous enough you'll test that theory to its breaking
point."

He picked up the present from Hermione from his stack, untying the green ribbon. Inside was a
braided leather bracelet she'd made. She'd put initials on each strand. One for her, one for Theo,
and one for Titus. She wanted one for Tabitha, but four strands made it too bulky. Over the years,
she'd made him several things— a bookmark, a wand holder, a decorated journal—but this was the
first piece of jewellery she'd given since the Knut necklace she gave Theo.

"I put a protection Rune on the clasp—the Algiz," she said, feeling herself blush. "It's a little
stupid, I know, but I thought it might keep you safe while you're working. It's nothing compared to
your usual body armour, and I'm not sure if I cast the accompanying charms correctly, but it's—"

"It's perfect." He held it out, along with his wrist. "Can you help me put it on?"

Her nerves bunched under her skin, stomach flip flopping as she walked up. He kept his eyes on
her, which she ignored, securing the bracelet in place with fumbling fingers. She kept missing the
loops because her hands trembled.

When she finished, she made the mistake of glancing up. Titus' face was close enough she saw the
white flecks in his blue eyes.

The stars and planets still danced around them, slowly rotating as if they produced gravitational
pull.

"I'm never going to take it off," he whispered. She froze as he leaned over and kissed her cheek,
much too close to her lips, and then pulled back. "Don't hate me for too long. What I said was said
in anger and wasn't true. I value your opinions more than anyone else. Besides Theo and Tabitha,
you're the only person I love. Always remember that."

The air between them tightened. Titus stood much too close, and she felt like he was leaning in
again. Hermione stepped back on instinct. They'd had many physical interactions throughout the
years—hugs, holding hands, kisses on cheeks— so Hermione didn't understand why she felt so
nervous.

Titus looked down at her feet, as she shuffled backward.

His jaw clenched, and he gave a loud sigh.

"Merry Christmas, Sprite."

Titus turned and walked out, looking frustrated, and Hermione reached up and touched the
universe at her throat, reeling in confusion.
 Grown-up Muggleborns
Chapter Notes

Song Suggestion: Kanye West- "Runaway"

-Kudos to canucklehead (ao3) for recognizing the importance of the first Christmas
gift from Titus. I have Easter eggs everywhere.

-Should I start selling Team Titus/Team Draco shirts lol?

-I will have to take next Sunday off. Next update will be October 16th.

As always, a big thank you to MyPrivateInsanity for editing!

Trigger warnings will be posted at the bottom of the chapter for those that need it.

See the end of the chapter for more notes

Grown-up Muggleborns

"I can't believe he's letting me go, especially with all the pureblood men there." Hermione stood
before the hall mirror— an enchanted one that sang compliments— and completed the last swipe
of her dark red lipstick.

"Well, Malfoy is still in France at his Chateau, visiting his cousins." Theo brushed imaginary dust
off his shoulder. "That seems to be the only one Titus is truly worried about." He gave a short
laugh, as if just thinking of something. "Malfoy will be livid once he finds out."

"You're so handsome, Theodore," the mirror crooned. Hermione rolled her eyes. The mirror never
gave her compliments like it did the men. She suspected it might have a crush on the Nott brothers.

Malfoy's absence did disappoint her, but it didn't take away her excitement. They were going to a
birthday party at Gregory Goyle's sea-side castle. She'd get a change of location and an opportunity
to see Katie, who she hadn't seen since before the Christmas holiday.

Hermione walked out of the room, holding Theo's arm, wearing her favourite dress— black velvet
with tiny silver stars dotted across the fabric in the shapes of various constellations. The sleeves
were a puffy fabric, billowy and see-through. When she'd bought it two years before, it had hung
past her knees, but she must have grown, because it hit a few inches higher, and it clung tight to the
curves of her body in a way it hadn't before.

For the first time in her entire life, Hermione felt like an adult. Not a little kid playing dress up.

She walked down the main staircase, still holding onto Theo, but he stopped mid-step.

Titus waited at the bottom of the staircase in his dress robes. The sight of him made her stomach
clench with nerves. She'd been avoiding him since Christmas, still angry over what he'd said to her.
Despite that, she wore the universe he gave her, tied around her throat.

Titus turned, eyes landing on her, swiping up and down, lingering on her legs. He straightened as if
hexed. One of his hands reached out and touched the bannister. A blush crept up her neck at the
intense inspection.

"Absolutely not." He shook his head. "Go change."

"Don't tell her what to do," Theo said. "Why are you in dress robes?"

Titus frowned, glaring at his brother, adjusting his cufflinks with an irritated tug.

"Goyle Sr. is having a few head aurors and ministry employees over to approve the plans for the
muggle work camp being built."

"Fine," Theo sneered. "Just stay out of my way. I'm going ahead. I'd take you with me, Hermione,
but I sense Titus is about to be a tyrant."

They both watched Theo walk down the staircase, shoving past Titus and then headed toward the
floo. He grabbed a handful of powder and disappeared inside, leaving the two of them alone.

"Muggle work camp?" She asked.

A chill crept up her spine, but Titus rolled his eyes.

"A voluntary work camp. We give them a wage and rations. It's nothing to concern yourself with."
He looked her up and down, lingering on her legs again. "What you do need to concern yourself
with is a dress change."

"I thought I looked just fine."

"You look beautiful," he said as if to placate her. "But you're showing too much skin to be
appropriate, and it's way too tight."

An odd rage filtered through Hermione.

"I spent hours designing my whole look around this dress. I'm not changing."

He looked a little shocked at her outright refusal. She'd never told him no like this.

"What's gotten into you lately? You'll wear something else if you want to go. You have a whole
wardrobe full of dresses to choose from."

The fury rose higher. Magic simmered at the tips of her fingers.

"I'm an adult now, capable of making my own decisions. So I am going, and I refuse to change. If
you want me to wear something else, you'll have to rip this dress off me."

She regretted saying it like that.

A shudder ran through Titus, and he froze, his dark gaze heavy, sliding along her skin as if he was
contemplating doing exactly as she suggested.

"Is that so? You think you're old enough to make your own decisions when it comes to safety? I
thought you didn't want to enter the Trials." He took a step forward, feet near the stairs.
"Because grown-up muggleborns spend their nights in a wizard's bed. Is that what you're wanting
to do?"

The way he emphasised the word nights made her body tingle— a mixture of caution and sudden
arousal.

Hermione no longer knew what category she fell into. No longer a child, but not quite old enough
for her life after the Trials. Her relationship with Titus had morphed into something else without
her understanding what it meant, and she chafed under his overbearing protection.

"If you make me change, I'll hate you again for a very long time."

He flinched but didn't waver.

"Nothing new. I think I can stomach that if it means keeping you safe."

Her anger suddenly wrung out, knowing it would lead her nowhere.

"Don't stop me from going. I thought I looked respectable in this. Only my knees are showing for
Merlin's sake. I know I lied to you about the fireworks, but why don't you trust me?"

He tilted his head to the side and seemed to be chewing on the inside of his cheek. then his face
smoothed, and he loosened his hands, as if deciding something.

"You're right, Sprite. It's time we go." He held out his hand to the floo, telling her to walk, which
she did, stomping down the stairs. But when she tried to walk past him, he grabbed her by the
waist and tugged her back against his hard chest. She almost lost her balance, but he kept her
upright and leaned down, letting his warm lips rest against the shell of her ear. "Just a warning—
since you're an adult now— if any of those wankers touch you, I'll slice off their fingers. Anything
more, and I'll scatter their body parts around Diagon Alley."

Her stomach tumbled to her toes, thinking about Draco and what Titus would do to him if he found
out even a fraction of what they'd done.

The hands cinched around her waist loosened and rested on her hips, fingers splayed along the
curve.

"Understand?"

"Of course."

Titus released her. She stepped away quickly, twisting around.

He shook his head as if to dislodge something. "Against my better judgement, I'll let you wear the
dress, but you'll need to be near me the entire night."

Hermione almost revolted, but then her logic worked. If she pushed too hard, he might still deny
her the ability to go to the party. Once she got there, she was sure he'd change his mind and let her
spend time with Katie

He did not change his mind.

When they arrived, he placed a hand on her back and led her to a darkened room containing the
men, many of them Wizengamot members and other ministry employees. Cigar smoke lingered in
the air, making her gag. Hermione spent her time looking at the door in longing, wishing to spend
time with Katie and Theo.

Instead, she sat on a musty couch with Titus' right arm around her upper shoulders, bored out of her
mind. He swished a glass of firewhisky in his left hand, occasionally laughing at bad jokes. His
fingers played with the skin on her upper shoulder, right over the gauzy fabric, tracing patterns in
an absentminded way. Hermione tried to focus on something else, but the touch distracted her.
Normally, she'd think nothing of the physical interaction, but she remembered his lips against her
ear, hands splayed on her hips. She tried to ignore the coil slowly tightening in her body, the heat
pulsing in her lower stomach.

Most of the discussion centered around internal ministry politics and funding, but when the
conversation switched to muggles, she started paying attention.

"The muggles are getting restless again in Glasgow," an ugly man named Rosier said. A bulbous
nose took up most of his face, and old age had stolen most of his hair. He'd been leering at
Hermione most of the night, attempting to look up her dress, causing her to readjust the hemline
multiple times. "Tiberius eradicated a small sect of the Order, but new members keep popping back
up like weeds. What do you think needs to be done, Titus?"

Titus considered. His finger stopped tracing patterns.

"I always attempt positive reinforcement first. Reward the rats willing to sell out their neighbours.
An extra ration of food for six months usually does the trick. Muggles are filthy, desperate
creatures without any nobility, so it's easy to sway them to turn traitor. After that, their morale
vanishes. They can't trust each other. And without trust, there's no organisation."

"I'd rather not waste rations," Rosier said. "The parasites take up too many as it is. I think it might
be time for another purge— the elderly, the infirm. What's the use of them if they cannot work?
Honestly, the muggles should be grateful we'd cut off the dead weight."

Hermione froze. A purge. The word made all the hair on her body stand on end. Rosier wasn't
talking about killing criminals or the Order. Those would be understandable.

But the elderly? The infirm?

"Would that include you?" Hermione asked Rosier with a sneer. "You look old and useless to me."

All the eyes in the room turned their attention to her, and it went silent. Hermione instantly
regretted saying anything, wishing she could shrink back into the cushions and disappear.

"Say you're sorry, Sprite." Titus' hand tightened on her shoulder. She refused to look at him as he
bent close. "Right now."

Hermione grit her teeth, unwilling to let the words pass her lips. She meant what she said.
Apologising would go against her conscience. She glared at Rosier, showing she wouldn't back
down.

They waited, and the silence became oppressive.

She dug her nails into the skin of her legs.

"It's no matter," Rosier drawled in a way that made her skin crawl. "Most muggleborns, like their
sires, are a little unruly. There's no need to force your hand right now. I'm sure in private there will
be sufficient… punishment." He paused. "As I'm told, your ward doesn't usually misbehave, though
I'm also told you spoil her. Maybe it's time you stopped indulging her whims and tightened the
leash."

"She's generally very amiable." Titus' hand still gripped her arm so hard she thought it might
bruise. "But she's still occasionally careless with youth. I hope you can forgive her."
"Of course," Rosier said. "I enjoy pets more when they have a playful bite. She's eighteen, correct?
Have you given thought to when you'd like to start the Trials?"

"She needs to mature more."

Rosier looked her up and down again.

"I think she looks mature enough to breed."

Titus stiffened.

"That's my decision," he warned in a low voice.

Rosier waited a moment, as if assessing the situation carefully.

"I can see why you'd want to postpone. Having her under your roof every night must be a…
blessing. It would be a shame to give her to another wizard now that you've put so much work
into training such a pretty thing. Of course, that is unless you plan to put your own token in for her,
which— after seeing her—I think I would too, if I was young enough. Personally, I'm looking
forward to her Trials. She'll be rather interesting, I think. Though let's hope she arrives intact."

She sensed there was a hidden layer to his words, and it made her feel ill.

Titus tugged her closer to him, and Hermione let him.

"Careful what you insinuate. If you continue to make lewd suggestions about my ward, I'll defend
her honour in a way I deem appropriate." Titus' voice chilled her. It had the same effect on the men
around the room. They all gave furtive looks to each other.

"Is that a threat?"

"The word threat implies I may or may not do it. Rest assured, Rosier, if you overstep, I'll have you
removed from the Wizengamot, at the very least."

"You couldn't."

"I could slice your throat right here, and no one would do a thing. Hermione was right about you
being useless. You're irritating the wrong person. My patience with your opinions has reached an
end."

"You're overconfident."

"Would you like to test my confidence?"

The challenge hung in the oppressive silence. Titus' hand hovered over the pocket of his trousers,
right above his wand. The entire room knew who would win the fight, even against multiple
wizards.

"This is a party," Goyle senior cut in, lumbering by with his bottle of whisky, attempting to keep
the peace. "Let's not bring politics into it. Here, have another round of drinks and let's watch the
game." He snapped his fingers, and an elf walked in, rolling along a muggle television set on a tea
cart, already showing a quidditch game. Since the great war, wizards had adopted television,
charming them to withstand magical interference. Titus hated anything muggle, so they didn't own
one, but most households did.

The stunt worked. The tension broke, and the men began to chat, growing louder as if to
compensate for the previous conversation.

The room around them turned animated, but Titus stayed silent, as if something brewed in his
mind.

"You aren't going to kill the elderly, are you?" She whispered in a way no one could hear.

"No, there won't be a purge. That's an extreme step—an early method used right after the great war
— but it doesn't work, and I never participated in it. It would just create a rallying cry for the
muggles and give more recruits to the Order." He tugged her tight to him while looking down at
her. "I was wrong to bring you in here. Your heart is soft. It's not a bad thing, but I should have
known it would distress you to hear talk of muggles, and I'd rather you be around the boys than the
men. You don't need to worry. Bribery works most of the time to root out Order sympathisers. It's
rare that I need to do much else."

Of course, it would distress her to hear about the elderly being systematically killed. Who wouldn't
be distressed by that? She pursed her lips in indecision, and Titus stared at her, picking her
expression apart.

"Listen, the only time I use violence is if I feel there's no other method, and it's always against
people who deserve it. I may not be the best person, but I don't kill the elderly or children, only the
terrorists. And although I don't care for muggles, most of them are innocent, and I treat them as
such. Any wizard under my command wouldn't dare kill a child, or perform any acts of brutality on
innocent people, or I'd string him up alongside the Order."

Hermione nodded, accepting it. He didn't kill James Potter out of cruelty, but out of self-defence. It
still didn't make the botched inquiry okay, but it gave a reason beyond evil.

But that wasn't the only thing that unsettled her. The way Rosier talked about the Trials… It gave
her an ominous feeling deep in her stomach that there was something more she didn't know.

Titus sighed and ran a hand through his hair— a sign he was stressed.

"It was selfish of me to keep you close tonight." He let go of her shoulder, stood up, and offered his
hand. "Let's go find Theo and Katie. I'm sure they're both missing you."

Hermione stayed with Theo and Katie the rest of the night. Marcus hovered in the corner, hiding
his jagged teeth behind his lips as much as possible, embarrassed by them. Every time he tried to
talk to Katie, he stuttered and found something else to do. Hermione could tell it both annoyed and
amused Katie by her expression. To be fair, Katie wasn't the nicest, always sneering at him or
giving underhanded comments.

Soon enough, Mrs. Goyle called Katie away.

"She promised Flint we'd have dinner together." Katie frowned showing Hermione what she
thought of that. "I don't know what the woman thinks we'll talk about. This will be terrible, but— I
guess I should get used to it if I'll have to live with him." She gave a shudder and another frown.

"Good luck," Hermione said with a grin. "Don't be too mean to him."

"Me? Mean?" Katie placed a hand on her chest in faux outrage. "I'd never be mean."

Besides Draco, Katie might be the meanest person she knew.

"Just talk to him about quidditch. Theo told me he was Captain his sixth and seventh year. You
have a common interest."

"Ugh, I'll try, but Greg told me he's a Falmouth Falcons fan. I'm not sure that will go well."

Hermione rolled her eyes just as Mrs. Goyle bustled in, already annoyed Katie was taking too long.
She gave a wave as she walked out.

After that, Hermione sat by Theo as he played a muggle card game called poker. Blaise taught
them it, shuffling the cards and passing them out. The game relied a lot on deception, and Blaise
was very good at it, which didn't surprise her. Theo did okay. Poor Greg lost all his weekly
allowance in the first thirty minutes. The other boys—one named Montague and the other Pucey—
played decently, enough to keep the game going.

"I'm going to the loo," she whispered to Theo after they started another game. He gave a nod,
concentrating on the cards. It was just down the hallway, almost within sight, so she didn't demand
Theo lead her there, and neither did he offer.

After relieving herself and washing her hands, she walked out, but stopped. Further down the
hallway was the entrance to what was unmistakably the Goyle library. Without overthinking, her
feet led her further down the darkened path.

She walked inside and sucked in a breath of reverence. It was spacious but not nearly as grand as
the Nott library, and a fine layer of dust coated everything. It was obvious no one used it much,
just a showpiece. Not even the elves cleaned it.

Hermione walked in, giving a slight sneeze. She weaved in and out among the stacks, running her
hands along the titles, most ancient and crumbling, held together with preservation spells.

Toward the back, next to a stained-glass window, she pulled one off the shelf— a book on the dark
arts— something she wouldn't have been able to touch back home. A thought struck her, and she
hesitated, but the temptation was too much to resist.

Hermione slid the book off the shelf and slipped it into her purse. It disappeared inside before she
could second-guess her decision. Her palms itched and her heart beat furiously at the risk. Theft
wasn't something to take lightly against another pureblood. Titus wouldn't punish her physically,
but she didn't trust his black moods lately.

Still— when would she have another chance to gain knowledge? And from the looks of it, the
books would hardly be noticed. The greedy hunger overwhelmed her, and she pushed aside any
concerns. Just like the wands, Hermione considered this a necessary risk. The thirst inside her
needed to be slaked, or she'd go mad. What Titus gave her wasn't enough, and she dared not ask for
more.

Hermione went through the titles on a mission. She couldn't risk taking too many, deciding to stop
it at five. That meant she'd need to be picky about what she chose.

Defensive Spells for Duelling

Advanced Ancient Rune Translation

Theories of Transubstantial Transfiguration

Hermione walked into a secluded alcove of the library only lit by a few fairy lights, knowing she
didn't have much more time. The dark wrapped around her, bringing a chill. This section was
darker, more forgotten. She trailed her fingers along the shelves, stopping at one book.

It had no title, standing out from the rest. Just a leather bound book without any embellishment.
With curiosity, she pulled it off the shelf. Besides an odd blue design in the corner, nothing was on
the front cover. She squinted at the symbol and then almost dropped it in shock, just barely
shoving the book back into place, withholding a shiver of revulsion.

The book wasn't bound in leather.

It was human skin.

The design had been a tattoo on some unfortunate soul. It was obviously a Rune, but not any that
she could identify. The book was old, probably older than any book she'd ever seen. Even with
preservation spells, it should be crumbling in her hands; its excellent condition meant it was being
protected by strong blood magic, most likely with sacrificial roots.

Whatever this book contained was so dark or powerful a wizard in the past killed another human to
keep it intact.

A malevolent air pulsed off the book. She should leave it be and exit the library.

But it called to her. A secret knowledge. Whatever this book contained was not meant for her,
which meant she wanted it more than anything.

Fuck Titus and his rules. If he refused to give magic to her, she'd take it outright, slip it from hands
wishing to tug it from her. The pulsing darkness seemed to feed on her anger, making it grow
greater.

She only had a moment to wonder where the vitriol sprouted from. It welled up from deep inside
her, a fury she'd just recognized. It felt like she had carried it all her life, lying dormant in her heart.
Now that she recognized the feeling, it rose in uncontrollable waves— an almost murderous fury.

Hermione grabbed the dark arts book and placed it in her purse with a determination that surprised
her.

"Well, well, well, the little mudblood is also a thief."

The words slicked down her spine.

She twisted to see Blaise leaning against a bookshelf, his arms crossed on his chest and one of his
fake smiles tugging at his lips. She'd never believed the expression. There was a disconnect from
the smile to his eyes, an emptiness when he looked at someone, as if he was the predator and they
the prey.

The threat he posed was not in his intelligence like Draco, but in his lack of humanity. She saw it
when his mask briefly slipped. She sensed there were no limits to his cruelty.

The danger instinctively caused the hair to raise across her body. She backed up until she was
pressed against the bookshelf. Fairy light flickered around them, contorting his face in the
shadows.

"No worries, house pet, I won't tell anyone about your sticky fingers."

"Stop calling me that."

He gave a laugh.

"That's what you are, you know that right?" He pointed to the necklace encircling her throat that
Titus had given her. "Titus even gave you a collar. You can call yourself something else, I suppose,
but it doesn't change the reality."

"Theo will look for me soon."

"Is that what you're counting on? He's nearly sloshed." He brushed his fingers against his thumb
together, as if thinking. "Now that I have a captive audience, I'd like you to help me solve a little
mystery."

"Not intelligent enough to figure it out on your own?"

He gave a quick sneer.

"Why bother, when the object of the mystery is before me?"

Hermione's eyes scanned the room, but there were no easy exits; they were boxed in by
bookshelves. She could scream for help, but then Titus would know what she'd been doing in the
library.

"It's an odd feeling to know you've been obliviated." Blaise seemed to sense her growing fear,
straightening. "There's an obvious gap in my memory, but the only thing I managed to uncover was
a brief glance of your face, along with another person, who I believe had pale blond hair. Now
what did I see in the astronomy tower that was so naughty Malfoy obliviated me?"

"Nothing."

"Hmm, no, I doubt that." His grin grew. "Do you want to know my theory?" He walked forward,
and Hermione glanced around, again wondering how to get away, but the only exit would require
shoving past him. "I think you and Malfoy were having a bit of illegal fun. He tried to be light-
handed while erasing my memories to not scramble my mind, but enough slipped through to solve
the puzzle."

"You're not allowed to be alone with me." Hermione felt desperate.

"Is that what you told Draco too?"

He lunged at her, like a snake, grabbing her shoulders and pushing her hard against the books. One
ancient tome hissed at her.

Hermione began to struggle and cried out, but Blaise slapped his hand over her mouth.

"No need for dramatics. I just want a sample before offering to buy. Wasn't that what Malfoy was
doing? Besides, I doubt your master hasn't had fun with you, especially with the way he looks at
you. A fit witch like you in the same manor? He can't fuck you, but I bet he's played with you a
time or two. If I had a pet like you, you'd be on your knees servicing me any time I pleased."

His pupils dilated, as if just the thought aroused him.

She made a noise of terror behind his hand. She tried, but from the angle he held her, she couldn't
reach her purse where her wand was.

His hand slipped behind her head and grabbed her curls in a tight hold.
"In fact, that's exactly what I want you to do right now. You'll get on your knees, open those pretty
lips like the whore you are and suck me dry." He yanked on her curls, making her eyes water.
"Make no mistake, you're a filthy fucking mudblood only valuable for your cunt. Nothing but a
place to fill with pureblood cum."

"I'll scream."

"You won't," he said. "Sure, I might get in trouble, but so would you. I wonder how much freedom
you'll have then. Poor little mudblood locked in the manor, strapped to a bed with her legs open,
only allowed out with a wizard's permission."

Blaise gave a sharp laugh and leaned in, and Hermione decided to take a risk. She pooled the
energy into her hand and twisted her wrist, intending to shove him away. The fear strengthened her
magic, sending Blaise flying backward. The act caused an internal strain, like pulling a muscle, and
she gasped with the pain. Blaise smacked against a bookcase, making it wobble a moment before
he slid to the floor. He stared up at her, open mouthed. She lifted her hand in threat, showing she'd
do it again.

"What the fuck did you just do?" He tilted his head.

"Leave. Me. Alone."

Blaise stood up, and Hermione kept her hand raised, though she doubted what more she could do.
Since gaining a wand, her wandless magic suffered from lack of practice. Unwilling to be without
protection, Hermione searched through her purse with her free hand. When her fingers closed
around the wood, she brought it out and pointed it between Blaise's eyes.

There was a beat of silence as he comprehended the fact she held a wand—her own.

"So the little house pet has been learning tricks beyond sit and stay?" He grinned as if he'd won
something, and she felt it twisting through her. He took a step toward her, and she straightened the
wand, gritting her teeth. "I think I just discovered what would make Titus tick."

"If I were you, I wouldn't attempt to blackmail him. That would be your last mistake."

"I think we can come to an agreement. A token for my silence. The Wizengamot would put him in
Azkaban if they discovered you had your own wand." He took another step forward. Hermione
reviewed all the defensive spells she knew, prepared to use them. "After I win your Trials and have
you under my control, I'm going to make you call me master while I fuck every part of you." He
pointed to her lips. "Your mouth so you'll stay silent." His finger dropped. "Your arse so you won't
be so uptight. And then your cunt so it can be used for your only purpose in life. And after you pop
out three or four kids, I'll lock you in your room to rot. Or maybe I'll sell you to someone like
Rosier. I'm sure he wouldn't mind sloppy leftovers. The possibilities are endless."

Blaise straightened his robes, holding onto the collar of his shirt, as if unworried about the wand
pointed at him.

She'd never been spoken to like this. Her sense of safety shifted and cracked. The contents of her
stomach threatened to come out at all he threatened, and she shivered, trying to suppress her fear.

He winked.

"See you soon, house pet."

Chapter End Notes

Trigger Warning: attempted sexual assault

 A Spinning Ballerina
Chapter Notes

Song Suggestion: xxxtentacion– "I spoke to the devil in miami, he said everything
would be fine"

A/N: This story is Hermione-centric, meaning that Dramione is integral to the overall
plot, but it's secondary to her character arc. The first section of this story (chapter 1
through 21) doesn't feature him as much. He'll be in it a lot more after that. Those of
you that have read my other stories know I have several plot twists ahead. Prepare to
buckle up lol.

The lovely Frau Blucher drew an amazing fanart of the Coven of the Tree. I put it at
the bottom of chapter 11. Go check it out!

MyPrivateInsanity deserves all the kudos for her editing skills!

Trigger Warning posted at the end for those that need it.

See the end of the chapter for more notes

A Spinning Ballerina

When Hermione got home, she ran to the bathroom and vomited. Titus, seeing her distress,
followed her and rapped on the door with his knuckles.

"Are you okay?"

Hermione wiped her mouth, sitting back but still hovering over the toilet. "I must have eaten
something bad."

"I'll tell Bitty to get you a potion to settle your stomach."

A potion would do nothing. It wasn't food; it was horror.

For the first time since she was a child, she feared a monster. Blaise planned to wiggle his way into
her future. The dilemma of what to do made her ill. She couldn't tell Titus. But neither could she
stay silent.

For an entire week, she agonised over the decision. In the end, it was ripped from her hands.

Blaise arrived through the floo a day before winter break ended. Hermione had thought it was
Theo coming back from Diagon Alley with his new quills. But instead, she saw Zabini enter Nott
Manor, cleaning off the ash from exquisitely tailored black robes. Hermione froze in the doorway,
watching as Bitty asked his name and purpose and then popped away to tell Titus.
Blaise looked up, met her eyes, and gave a wink, biting back a smirk as he placed his hands behind
his back.

Theo had told her that he was raised by a single mum. His father died in Zabini's childhood, and his
mum had a rotation of stepfathers and suitors stepping in and out of his life. If he weren't so horrid,
she might have been sympathetic.

Titus walked into the room from the opposite side. When he reached Blaise, he stuck out his hand.
Blaise grabbed it, shaking hard.

"To what do I owe the pleasure, Zabini?"

Titus sounded calm, though she wasn't fooled by it. He was constantly analysing everyone in his
environment, watching every detail of their movements, expressions and actions, which made him
able to read people without the use of legilimency. He'd once told her that people gave away their
secrets through their body language. A person just needed to pay attention.

Titus did the same now to Blaise, eyes sliding over him. Hermione wondered if he sensed the same
things she did— a complete disconnect, something lacking in the soul.

Titus released his hand after holding it for a little longer than normal.

"I'm here to offer my token for Hermione."

Titus straightened with an expression a bit more hostile, though he smoothed it over.

"And why should I consider you?"

"As you know, my father was from a deeply respected Italian pureblood family— one of the oldest
in the world— dating back to the Roman era. I'm also second in my class, and I've already secured
an internship with Gringotts."

Titus glanced back, catching her eye. She still stood in the doorway, unsure how to escape the
situation.

"Come here, Sprite."

She obeyed, shuffling in. The nerves jumped in her stomach again. Blaise played a game, but so
did Titus. She saw the question in his eyes— why would Blaise have the audacity to show up at
Nott Manor and ask to put in a token?

"What do you think?" Titus asked.

Hermione let herself relax, loosening each tense muscle before responding. What could Zabini do,
really? She decided to call his bluff.

"No."

Titus turned back to Blaise, who looked aghast that he even asked her opinion.

"Then no."

Blaise pulled his lips back in pure disgust.

"Letting your pet decide? This should be reported and investigated by the Wizengamot. You must
be confused about who is the dog and who is the master."
Titus didn't move, though his wand hand twitched.

"If Hermione doesn't like someone, then I don't like them either," Titus answered. "The
Wizengamot wouldn't investigate me denying you a token. You're a second-rate wizard, and you'll
stay second-rate. It's why you want Hermione, thinking an association with her will bolster you in
the public eye. But she's more of a witch than you'd ever be a wizard."

Blaise grit his teeth, eyes finally sparking to life. It seemed the only emotion he could dredge from
his soul was a feral type of rage.

"They'll investigate you once I tell them you've given your little pet a wand." Blaise wore a smug
smirk with the subsequent silence. "Lucky for you, I don't really care. No one needs to know a
thing. And before you decide to retaliate, just know that several important figures already have
scrolls charmed to reveal the secret within the hour… that is, unless I deactivate it." He
straightened his robes. "I'm willing to overlook the previous insult, as long as we have a deal. A
token for my silence."

She didn't even see Titus extract his wand. It sprung into his hand.

"Cruico!"

Blaise collapsed against the ground, screaming in agony, body twisting into contortions.

"Coming into my house, threatening me?" Titus bared his teeth, holding the spell longer than she
thought possible. The curse cast frightful shadows on his face. Hermione scrambled back, unable
to believe what she was seeing.

Titus was using an unforgivable. She'd read about them in her stolen defence book, and though she
knew he had killed people, she never thought him capable of an unforgivable.

When he let up the curse, Titus stepped toward Blaise. Each click of his boot on the tile below built
the threat until he stood above him. Blaise's body still trembled with the shock of the torture.

"What am I going to do with you?" Titus crouched down and placed the tip of his wand next to his
jugular. "I really want to unravel your insides. I'd like to see your expression while I do it. On every
person, it's always the same, even if they know it's coming. It's as if they didn't quite believe they'd
actually die. But they do, of course, usually quite painfully."

Blaise managed to sneer through his involuntary spasms.

"You're not allowed to kill me," his voice was cracking. "My mother is sleeping with Walter
Filibus. "

"Your mother's cunt isn't worth that much."

"They'll put you in Azkaban."

"Do you really think they'd arrest me?"

"The law—"

"I am the law." Titus gave a derisive laugh. "You're going to learn a hard lesson today that political
games are best left to the adults that understand them."

"They'll care that she can do magic with and without a wand."
"You miscalculated two things. One," he said. "I care for Hermione, making what you propose a
threat to my family. Two—" His lips curled in disdain. "Your threat no longer has teeth for the bite.
If you'd made it six months ago, I might have hesitated, but not anymore. I made sure of that. It
might accelerate a few plans, but it's nothing I couldn't manage. No one is taking her from me, least
of all you. The members of the Wizengamot now either owe me favours, life debts, or they're
afraid of me… as you should have been."

Though it was obvious he tried to remain unaffected, Blaise made a small noise of disbelief.

Titus just stared, cocking his head. He leaned down with a glint in his eye and placed his wand to
the middle of Blaise's chest, splitting his shirt apart with a rip, baring his chest.

"Due to my deep respect for your late father, I'll give you a warning. Try to threaten me again, and
I'll drag your corpse to your mother."

For the first time, Zabini looked scared, as if he never thought Titus would actually harm him.

"Let's make a deal. I think we could—"

Titus ran his wand again down Blaise's exposed skin, and a low scream was ripped from his lips.
When Titus finally pulled away, a thick line of welted flesh was left down the middle of his chest,
seeping small droplets of blood.

"You need to stop talking."

Blaise panted, ribs expanding and shuddering. Involuntary tears ran down his cheeks. Hermione
could only stare, unsure what to feel. Seeing Titus' violence disturbed her, but what disturbed her
more was the satisfaction she felt hearing Blaise's pained scream. She'd never thought of herself as
cruel, but she'd watched the torture, wishing it had been her wand, her vengeance. The intensity of
it scared her.

"How did he know about the wand, Sprite?" Titus' voice was low like a growl. He reached into his
robe and pulled out a knife. The cloying slime of dark magic dripped from it.

Hermione grabbed the sides of her dress, bunching the fabric in her hands.

"He cornered me in the Goyle library." She saw no need to lie anymore. He'd probably tear through
Blaise's memories soon.

Titus flicked his eyes to her. In the few seconds they connected, she felt splayed open for him to
read.

"Did he touch you?"

"He—he grabbed my face."

His eyes narrowed.

"Anywhere else?"

"He pulled the back of my hair. He wanted me to get on my knees and—" The words caught in her
throat. "He told me to open my mouth to— I used my magic to protect myself."

Titus' rage slid off his face, replaced by a cold mask.

"What did I say would happen if any of them touched you?"

Her heart jolted, remembering his breath on her neck, hands on her hips.

"You'd slice their fingers off."

"What kind of man would I be if I didn't stand by my word?"

Blaise began to struggle while cursing, but Titus kneeled down, trapping his wrist to the ground
with his knee. He used a nonverbal spell to keep the rest of him in place.

The room went still for several moments, as if a single breath would tip into chaos.

"I want you to go and wait for me in the back sitting room, Sprite." Titus tapped the flat side of the
knife against Blaise's cheek. "I need to teach Zabini how to respect his betters. It might be awhile
before I can join you. I think I'll take my time."

Hermione hesitated, wishing to stay. She'd never seen this brutal, cold side of Titus. But with one
look at Titus, she knew she wouldn't win that argument.

She twisted and exited the room, shutting the door.

Before she even made it down the hallway, Blaise began screaming.

Hermione waited on a small red velvet settee. The back sitting room had been his mother's
favourite. Compared to the rest of the house, the colours were light, with walls a soothing cream. A
big picture window took up one wall, overlooking the north gardens. The giant unicorn statue
stood in the center of the garden, surrounded by a maze of hedges. She'd loved it as a child,
climbing on the unicorn's back, pretending it could come alive.

It could, she supposed. Titus told her long ago that all the statues around the property were spelled
to animate and protect the family if under attack. Hogwarts had a similar security system. It had
only been used once around four hundred years before. The statues slaughtered the invaders,
leaving body parts strewn across the gardens.

Hermione turned her focus to the art on the sitting room walls. Dancers leaped and posed. A
ballerina performed a pretty pirouette, looking as elegant as a swan as she then twirled, extending
her arms and legs in turns. Theatre and dance were one of the few entertainments that muggles and
wizards shared, even before the great war, though there were slight differences— or, at least, that's
what she'd been told.

The door cracked open, and Titus entered. He pulled to a stop and stared at her while she studied
the portraits. Then he slowly made his way to a cream-colored sofa across from her. He sat,
smoothing his shirt. He'd cleaned most of the blood off him, but a splash of crimson marred his
cheek.

"That one was my mothers' favourite." Titus pointed to the ballerina. "She bought it shortly after
her marriage." He paused, as if expecting a reply, but she couldn't look at him. "She would have
liked you. You both have strong spirits, and she wasn't afraid to tell my father her opinion. When
she was at Hogwarts, she was a Ravenclaw and Head Girl. Many of the selections in the library
were for her love of books."

"Are they? I wouldn't know."

"Look at me, Sprite."

"No."

"Please."

She shook her head, eyes on the twirling ballerina. Around and around on her toes, arm
outstretched.

"I shouldn't have attacked him in front of you."

The violence disturbed her, but she was glad Zabini could no longer hurt her. She suspected if
Titus hadn't put him in his place, the Malfoys would have.

It was the fact he was going to take her books again. The moment she informed him she went into
the Goyle library, he knew she'd taken some. If she looked at him, she might hate him again.

She'd already decided to gather the books herself, before he had a chance to order her. She'd
stopped by her room and had taken them out of her purse. Taking a risk, she'd left the one bound in
skin.

Hermione placed her hand on top of the small stack of books next to her on the settee.

"These are what you're after."

She heard him sigh.

"Even if I overlooked your theft, I can't ignore how you put yourself in danger. Do you see now
why I'm strict with my rules? He could have really hurt you. If he hadn't been the last Zabini, I
would have gutted him."

Her head whipped around, forgetting that she didn't want to look at him. It was a mistake. His blue
eyes glowed in the winter light, trapping her into his gaze.

"But he didn't," Hermione argued. "I'm not some wilting flower. I was perfectly capable of
defending myself. If you'd let me have complete access to our library, I could have done even
more."

"You fought fine against Zabini," he said, as if to placate her. "But you wouldn't have stood a
chance against a more competent wizard, especially if they surprised you. I know you've started to
chafe under the restrictions you're under, but you must learn to accept them. The rules are there to
keep you safe, not to punish you."

Hermione felt like she was suffocating. She didn't want him speaking to her when her emotions
boiled to the surface.

"I wish to be alone," she said.

He ran a hand through his hair and stood up.

"I'm afraid I can't do that." His jaw clenched, fist curling at his side before straightening. His
temper was on a tight leash. Whatever he was about to say made him very angry—so angry he
didn't trust himself. "When I went through Blaise's memories, I found something… concerning."

Hermione dug her fingers into the fabric of the settee. She prepared herself, stiffening her spine for
the upcoming storm, knowing what he sought.

Titus walked over. She attempted to keep her eyes flat while he cupped the bottom of her jaw and
tugged it up, keeping her stare.

"Were you ever alone with Draco Malfoy?"

"No." As much as she tried, it sounded rushed and tight. She tried to keep her expression neutral,
but she failed.

Just as his hand tightened, she wrenched herself away from him and scrambled across the room,
pressing herself to the wall next to the ballerina. She'd never seen Titus this angry, almost
unhinged. Not even when she used the prank fireworks.

He took big gulping breaths and started to pace. Bringing both his hands to his hair, he dug them in
and tugged, making a noise of rage.

"What did you do with him?" He stopped pacing and took a few steps closer.

"Nothing," she said. "We just talked."

"What did I say about lying?"

"We kissed!" She yelled, throwing all her emotions into it so it would distract him. A kiss was
more innocent than what they'd done in the glade. She'd learned long ago to give away the least to
deflect from the worst.

"You fucking kissed him!" He roared and walked forward until he nearly pressed against her,
hands placed on the wall on either side of her head.

"We just kissed," she said again, this time softer.

"Anything more?" He asked, showing all his teeth in a snarl. He looked as if he wanted to reach
forward and bite her. "Did he touch you?"

"Do you think I'd let him do that?" She answered a question with a question. Titus was usually cool
enough to catch the manipulation, but he was seething, panting hard.

"I don't know what you'll do anymore. Every time I turn my back, you're being reckless." He
paused and closed his eyes briefly, trying to regain control. "Maybe I should start your Trials
before you do something irrevocably stupid."

"Don't." Panic spiked through her at the threat. "You promised."

He shook his head and then leaned down, resting his forehead on hers. His hands transferred to her
neck, sliding them up and tangling in her hair. Hermione froze, unsure what to do with how close
their faces were. His breath warmed her lips. A clean scent drifted toward her, mixed with
cinnamon.

"Was it after Theo's games?" He made a frustrated noise. "Fuck, of course, it was after—Theo is
not going to like our next conversation. I can't believe you gave that spoiled git your first kiss. He
—"

"Don't get mad at Theo," she whispered. "I escaped him and found Draco. We kissed. Nothing
more, I swear."

His hands tightened and then he released her. Maybe he believed her… or maybe he just wanted to
believe her.
"I'm going to kill Malfoy."

"No!" Hermione cried, knowing he truly meant the threat. "It was my fault. I was the one who
kissed him." Which wasn't a lie, and wasn't quite the truth. "I—I wanted to know what it felt like. I
found one of your mother's books, and the man kissed the woman he loved—"

"Draco doesn't love you."

"How would you know?"

Titus walked back to the couch. He sat down, resting his elbows on his knees, and stared at the
floor. Hermione had trouble reading him, but she thought he might be wounded, which only
confused her. She'd rather he be angry again.

"Because, if he did, he wouldn't have risked so much for a kiss. What you're experiencing is
infatuation, not love."

She agreed with him. She didn't love Draco, but she also didn't like being told what to do.

"So you're the expert on love now? Every week there's a new woman entering the manor, and you
have the audacity to lecture me on feelings."

Titus' eyes snapped up. They burned through her, pinning her into place.

"Oh, I know what it feels like to love." He stood again, eerily calm, wearing his cold mask. He
walked over to the window, staring out, clasping his hands behind his back. "And I also know it
requires sacrifices. Denying impulses and selfish desires for the sake of the other person."

Hermione reeled with the words, trying to decipher what he was really saying.

"Your feelings are natural," he said more softly, as if conceding something. "Everyone your age
has… urges. The kiss wasn't inherently wrong. You're both stupid and young, but it can't ever
happen again. Not until the Trials. You have no clue what you and Draco are risking. If he'd —
compromised you, all of us would have been punished severely."

She didn't think Titus' threat toward Malfoy was gone. He never forgot a slight. She knew he was
only pretending to concede for her sake. Draco was in serious danger.

Her eyes felt hot for the first time in years, the closest she'd gotten to crying. The broken shards in
her chest lacerated something. The fear emptied out of her, leaving a familiar suffocation, a feeling
that had been growing all year.

"So I can't kiss Draco, but you get to have sex with whoever you want?"

"Don't be crude," he said.

"Answer the question."

Titus twisted to view her. He looked beautiful framed by the light from the window. Her protector.
Her guardian. He was the axis to her world. But at the moment, he looked as unyielding as the
statues decorating the garden.

"That's the harsh reality," he said. "You can either fight against it and choose to be miserable, or
you can accept your circumstances. We all have roles and duties. Do you think I wanted to become
the head of this household at sixteen? Do you think I was ready to take the responsibility for you
 and Theo? I was just a child myself, but I stood up and did what I had to. And no, I don't get to
spend my nights with whoever I want. I'm bound by rules too." He closed his eyes for a moment.
"My job is to protect you, even if it's from yourself, which is why I'm going to ban you from
Hogwarts forever."

"Forever?" She could see the grey towers now. The quidditch pitch. The lake. The astronomy
tower. The library. The glade filled with flowers. She didn't even know it was something to grieve
until it was taken.

"I wish I didn't have to do this, but you've left me no choice. I'm not even going to use legilimency
to find out if you've told the truth, though I want to. I'll let you keep your dignity in that, because it
no longer matters. From this point on, you won't be able to do anything rebellious, because I won't
give you the opportunity to put yourself at risk."

For the past few months, she'd felt like a flower, blooming in the sun. But the dark clouds
smothered the light, leaving her exposed to the harsh elements. She placed a hand to her sternum.

A sob broke from behind her lips. It surprised even her. After, she pressed her lips together,
refusing to let another slip out.

He looked alarmed at her reaction.

"Fuck—don't cry."

He walked close to her again, attempting to comfort her, but she shoved at his shoulders. It didn't
move him, but he stopped, surprised. She'd never physically lashed out at him like that.

"Don't touch me!"

"Sprite—"

"Just leave me alone. I don't want you anywhere near me!"

Titus recoiled, as if she'd physically hit him.

She hurt his feelings with her rejection, and she hated that she cared.

He bowed his head a little with a frown, staring at the floor as if he could find the solution to his
problems in the wooden planks.

"As you wish." He walked out of the room and slammed the door behind him. The sound echoed
around her, settling into her soul.

Hermione sat back down and stared at the ballerina.

Spinning around and around.

Trapped in the painting.

Chapter End Notes

Trigger Warning: Torture
 Protection Runes
Chapter Notes

Song Suggestion: The Lumineers– "Stubborn Love"

A/N: Draco will make an appearance in the next chapter (being a clever shit, of
course). Keep in mind that every character in this first section (chapter 1- 21) will
return to the plot at a later time. If I've mentioned them, then they are important to the
story. And pay attention to the details, because 90% of them are important too.

As usual, MyPrivateInsanity is the BAMF of the day for being an awesome editor!

Protection Runes

"Can anyone tell me the fifteen uses of bluebottle fly wings in potions?" Professor Booth asked.
Hermione waited, hand itching to raise, but she gave her friends a few moments to answer. Julie
seemed to be thinking. Dean tapped a beat with his quill. Finch was in the middle of a magnificent
doodle of a niffler. And Katie looked a few moments from being asleep. "Anyone?" Professor
Booth sighed. "Very well, Hermione, I know you already know. Explain to the—"

The door opened, and Titus entered. Katie raised her head as she jolted awake, showing the side of
her face had indentions from her scroll. The rest of the class went silent.

Titus never interrupted her school, usually busy at work.

Hermione watched as he walked over, eyes on the blackboard, and slid into an empty desk beside
her.

"Continue," Titus said with a wave of his hand. "I'd like to see what you're teaching the students."

There was a hard note behind his words, and Hermione's spine stiffened.

The Professor looked toward her as if for her to continue answering the question, but Hermione
refused to play Titus' mind games.

"What are you doing here?" she asked.

"Since you've shown a penchant for thievery, I decided to investigate to see if you've done it
before. Turns out you've been hiding something bigger."

Titus reached into the bag by his side. He took out a book and placed it on the desk in front of him.

One of her muggle books.

Inside the fake cover was a book on physics, one she'd only gotten halfway through. Even though
she didn't understand most of what was covered in the book, it still compelled her curiosity to
understand, frustrating her that the answers stayed out of reach.

And now she might never know the answers.

Titus must have found her bookshelf in the treehouse. She'd used multiple concealment charms, but
that meant nothing to a wizard of Titus' calibre. Her brain frantically went through which books
she'd stashed there. All of her most important items— the skin-bound book, the Nott defence book,
and the wands— she'd kept under her floorboards. Thankfully.

Only the muggle books, along with a few others she'd stolen over the years, were in the treehouse.

Still, her heart sank to her toes. Professor Booth had his eyes fixed on the book, knowing, just as
she did, the danger of the moment.

"Class is dismissed," Titus said "Your masters are here to pick you up."

Her friends glanced at each other in confusion, but they all obeyed in unison, completely silent
while filing out. Katie tried to catch her eye, but she shook her head, keeping her stare forward.

"Who are you, really?" Titus asked her professor a few moments after her friends left. "It was a
brilliant cover, going as far as killing the real Booth, and the polyjuice must have been expensive
— expensive enough to suggest access to Order resources."

Her professor went to his chair and collapsed. His initial fear smoothed away, replaced by
resignation. Instead of looking at Titus, his eyes went to Hermione.

"My real name is Franklin Thibodeaux," he said. "I'm sure you've heard of me."

The name meant nothing to Hermione, but out of the corner of her eye, she saw Titus flinch and
tense.

"Of course," he said, voice like a sword. "How could I ever forget one of the men responsible for
my parents' deaths? The only one who managed to escape justice."

Hermione startled, unable to hide her gasp of surprise. She placed her hand against her lips.

"For what it's worth, I'm sorry about your mother. She was a pure soul." Her professor's eyes
somehow softened, despite the danger. "But your father deserved the violence of his death, just
like you will when the time comes."

Titus reached into the pocket of his robe and took out his wand. His hand trembled in fury before
he regained his control.

"Is that what you planned?" he asked. "To kill me?"

"I have no need to kill you. Life finds its own way. Violent men have violent ends."

Titus scoffed.

"That's a rosy view of life. But fitting, I suppose, considering where you're heading." Titus rolled
his wand in his fingers. "If you didn't infiltrate my home to kill me, then what was your purpose?"

Her professor sighed, as if he wore a heavy cloak that weighed him down.
"Stop the ruse. You know exactly what my purpose was, though you did a magnificent job
brainwashing her. Despite that, I think I made significant headway. By the end of the year, I think I
could have smuggled her out by her own volition."

Hermione could tell that Titus was on the brink of snapping.

"Why bother risking so much for a single muggleborn?"

Her professor once again looked at Hermione. This time it was laced in pity.

"You know as well as I do that she's no ordinary muggleborn." Her professor glanced out the
window, as if deep in thought. "More importantly, I promised her father I would take care of her if
anything ever happened to him. After all, she is my goddaughter… but you knew that too."

Goddaughter! Hermione didn't know if she could be any less shocked. There were so many
questions she wished to ask, but Hermione knew she'd get no answers with Titus in the room.

"Taking care of her is my job," Titus seethed, words escaping behind clenched teeth. "I never asked
for help in the matter. She doesn't need anyone but me. You know how this ends, don't you?"

Her professor— no, her godfather— gave a small nod.

"I know what you're capable of, Butcher. Though I also know you like to follow the rules, only
deviating when you can. You'll have me arrested, and then you'll argue for my execution. I'm sure
you'll volunteer to do the deed."

Silence ensued.

"You've missed a crucial step," Titus said. "Before I kill you, they'll allow me to interrogate you.
I'll leave it to your imagination how thoroughly I'll do the job. Death will feel like a mercy in the
end. "

Still, the professor remained unmoved. If he felt any fear, he buried it deep. Titus thumped his fist
against the desk, signalling for three aurors to enter the room, wands raised. Her professor gave no
resistance as they searched his robes, taking out his wand and a book that he'd probably meant to
give her that day.

"Your father would be proud of you," her godfather said as they yanked him around. "Don't stop
being—"

"Silencio," Titus said, unwilling to let him talk to her anymore.

Desperation, horror, and guilt built inside her.

"I'm sorry," she told her professor. The back of her eyes burned with unshed tears. "I tried to hide
the books, but there was no place to put—"

"Be quiet, Sprite."

Hermione lurched in a breath, meeting her professor's eyes one more time as he was taken out of
the room. He didn't seem angry at her, he only looked sad and tired.

The doors slammed after the aurors left, and Hermione flinched with the sound. They sat there side
by side, until Titus pocketed his wand.

"Don't kill him," she whispered. It was futile, she knew, but she had to try.
"Don't ask that of me."

"Then don't torture him… for me."

He grimaced.

"This is bigger than you, Sprite. He has many secrets that I need."

Again, they sat in silence. Hermione felt everything at once. The horror of her professor's fate. The
pity for Titus, encountering one of the orchestraters of his parents' murders. The shock of meeting
her godfather, only to lose him. The guilt that her decision to accept the books had led to this
moment.

"You've put me in an impossible situation." His voice was rough. "Other masters would beat you
for this. I still should punish you, so that you understand the egregious nature of what you did,
because clearly you haven't learned any lessons. You've been stealing and lying and sneaking
behind my back—" He gave a deep sigh and placed his elbows on the table, leaning his face into
his hands. "But I know doing that will only make you hate me more, and I—" He made a low
growl in the back of his throat. "I don't want to be this person to you. I want to make you happy.
Seeing you upset tears out my soul."

"I'm sorry," she said. But she didn't feel sorry. She felt angry that she'd been denied what she
wanted in the first place. Angry that he arrested her godfather. Did that make her selfish?

At her apology, he seemed to sink further into his hands.

"You're curious," he said. It sounded like he was reasoning to himself. "He offered you knowledge,
and of course, you took it. I should end this school… but I'm going to give you the benefit of the
doubt. I'm going to believe that even if he had offered to take you away that you wouldn't have
been foolish enough to leave. Because the punishment I'd be forced to give you for conspiring with
the Order would hurt your spirit."

He reached out his hand and grabbed hers, but she tugged it away, wanting nothing to do with him
right now. He closed his eyes as if in pain and stood up, gently placing the book in front of her, like
an offering, like an apology.

"The Order is made up of monsters, Hermione. Worse than I could ever be. Have you forgotten
what they did to my parents? They kill innocent women and children indiscriminately in their
attacks. Their goal is chaos and destruction. Your professor didn't have good intentions, despite
what you may think." He pinched the bridge of his nose and then looked down at her. "Please stop
putting me in this position. I want to be your ally. I want—" He sighed. "We'll talk later when
you're not so angry with me, and I'm not so angry with you." He hesitated. "Do you have any more
secrets left? If you tell me now, I promise I won't get angry."

She didn't believe him. If he discovered the wands, he'd never let her see her friends again.

"No."

His lips thinned as he pressed them together. His stare pierced her, but she didn't care anymore.

"I'll give you some time to reconsider your answer."

He left the room in a rush, and Hermione remained, wondering how she could feel so guilty for
lying to him. In defiance, she opened the book he'd left in front of her and began to read, wanting to
escape the turmoil in her mind.
Hermione's fury burned hot for days. She ignored Titus. He didn't attempt to talk to her at first,
knowing he'd only bear the brunt of her ire. The walls that once felt like home were starting to feel
like a prison.

A week after the incident, Titus knocked on her door.

"Go away." She grabbed Crookshanks and held him close for comfort. Her cat meowed in
annoyance.

"I was wondering if you wanted to go to Diagon Alley with me."

Oh, it hurt. She wanted to go more than anything in the world.

"No."

"I know you've been bored, especially on the weekends. Don't do this to yourself just because
you're angry with me. And… I miss you."

"I don't want to spend time with you."

He thumped the door with his fist.

"You do realise you're angry with me for a situation you put yourself in. How did you expect me to
respond? I should have gutted Malfoy. I'm still tempted. And do you know what I should have
done after discovering you were taking illegal books from a member of the Order? You've been
rebelling for no fucking reason, and then you get angry when I don't even punish you for it.
Merlin, I don't know what to do with you." He paused. "Can you just come out? I hate talking to
the door."

"No."

"Fine! Stay in there all day, but don't complain that you don't get to go out when I've offered."

She cuddled Crookshanks so hard, he hissed at her.

Two weeks later, she sat in the middle of the treehouse with the other muggleborns. They had a
circle of candles around them. The others were attempting wandless magic with no success. She
tried to explain how it felt in her body when she made it happen.

"It buzzes under your skin. Don't you feel it?"

"Sort of," Finch said. Beside him, Dean grit his teeth in total concentration. "But it just won't do
what I'm thinking."

"Concentrate on forcing it into your hands, and then concentrate on pushing it out. Think of it as a
part of you— like an arm."

Sweat beaded on Dean's forehead, but nothing happened.

Julie had managed to put out a candle several days before, surprisingly more adept at magic than
the others. Katie didn't have the patience, not even bothering with trying.

"You're wasting your time," Katie said when Finch gave a frustrated noise after another failure.
"You could be learning new spells."
Hermione nibbled her lip in indecision. Her thoughts went to the book she kept under her
floorboards— the skin bound book.

When she'd opened it the first time, a wave of darkness washed over her, soaking into her skin,
making her feel ill. She considered burning it then, but every time she thought of throwing it out,
she remembered Titus demanding her books.

Despite her initial aversion, it fascinated her, though it was written in runic language she couldn't
read. And without access to the older runic languages to translate, she was left wondering what it
contained. She suspected it was so old it didn't have spells, but rituals, based on blood magic and
wandless incantations.

Hermione decided to keep it a secret, but she didn't want to keep everything secret.

"I've learned three new spells," Hermione interrupted her friends. She waited for all of their
attention to be on her before speaking. "They're so terrible they're labelled unforgivable. Before the
war, the use of them earned a person Azkaban. I'm not sure what the punishment is now. Though, I
assume it's still illegal for the most part."

"Why would we need to know about them if they're so evil?" Julie asked.

"Because it's the absolute last type of magic they'd want you to learn." Hermione was unable to
hide the bitter undertones in her voice. "Every wizard or witch you've ever met knows about them,
secrets passed on through schools like Hogwarts. I don't know about you, but I'm finished with
being denied magic, no matter the type."

The treehouse went silent. They were a coven of muggleborns with wands, but what use were the
wands without the knowledge of magic? Dark or light, it didn't matter to Hermione. She wanted it
all.

"What are they?" Dean asked.

"The first is called Imperio. It makes you lose your free will. If cast correctly, you're a puppet to
the wizard who cast it."

"Is there any way to fight it?"

"Not really. From what I've read, there are cases where the victim dismantled it by sheer
willpower, but those cases are few."

"What's the second?" Julie asked. Though scared, she started to look interested.

"The second is called Crucio." Even the word made her shiver. She remembered the frightful
shadows crossing Titus' face, and Blaise contorting in pain. "It's a torture curse. The worst pain
you could ever feel, and it can last for as long as the wizard can hold the spell."

"And the last?" Katie asked.

"Avada Kedavra." Hermione glanced around at her friends. She now knew it was what Lucius used
in Knockturn Alley to kill the filthy man. "The Death Curse."

"My mum cast that once." Julie fidgeted with her necklace. "A man tried to grab me in Diagon
Alley when I was seven. There was a green light, and the man fell over. I didn't see much else,
because she apparated us away."
"You never told us that," Katie said. They'd been with each other for so long they could list each
other's life stories. Every internal and external pain. Their hopes and dreams and desires. It was
rare to learn something new.

"I'd forgotten. Hermione saying the name jolted the memory somehow."

"Well, what's the use of learning the unforgivables, if we can't practise casting? I doubt I could
throw an Avada around to see if it works." Dean stared into the candle flame with a hand
outstretched, a part of him still attempting to snuff it out with wandless magic.

"Because they don't have specific wand movements. At least, not from what I've read. They are
closer to old magic than the spells we've learned."

"How so?"

"There's only one trick for the curse to work, which is why it's hard for most wizards to attain."
Hermione stopped and glanced around at them, wondering if she was making a mistake. But they
needed to be able to protect themselves, and they couldn't always rely on another wizard to help
them. "You have to mean it."

"Slavery, torture, and death," Dean said with a scoff. "You'd need to be practically evil to mean any
of those."

"Unless it's in self defence," Julie added.

"Even in self defence, you need to mean it," Hermione warned. "Most people find it impossible to
wish death, even if the person deserves it. And it extracts a price from your soul. Dark magic
lingers."

For some reason, a chill ran up her spine. A thought came to her then, reminding her of another
spell that might be useful to their little coven.

"I do have something we can practise." Hermione took out her own wand. "The charm creates a
spirit guardian, born of good thoughts, which can drive away Dementors and Lethifolds, and it's
the only charm that can scare away a manticore—though it won't be able to defeat it. It took me
ages to master it, but a few days ago, I managed to produce it. After I show you, I can teach you."

The group perked up, glad to be diverted from thoughts of slavery, torture, and death.

Hermione darkened the room for effect, then she raised her wand and muttered, "Expecto
Patronum."

A string of brilliant light burst from the tip of her wand, and in the corner of a treehouse her
patronus emerged. A silver otter bounced and played.

"How adorable." Julie clasped her hands together and gave a squeal of excitement. "Teach it to me
first!"

Three days later, Hermione heard a pop when she was in the library. She stood up, wondering who
it could be, since she wasn't expecting anyone.

The back of her neck prickled. She pulled her wand out of her purse, holding it low, reciting
defensive spells in her mind. She edged along the wall, twisting around the corners. When she got
closer to the main living room connected to the foyer, she heard the sound of breaking glass. A
grunt. A groan.

Hermione jumped out, wand ready, and then pulled back.

Titus was draped across a couch, holding his stomach. Blood puddled on the couch below him,
crimson dripping down his fingers. He acknowledged her with a grunt of pain.

"Oh, Merlin." Hermione rushed forward and crouched down in front of him. "Why didn't you go to
St. Mungo's?"

"I—I thought I'd splinch." He said the words through clenched teeth.

Hermione tried to get him to the floo, but he tumbled over, almost unconscious. She levitated him,
but at the entrance to the floo she hesitated, knowing she couldn't be seen using magic in public.
Hermione bit her lip and lowered Titus.

"Sprite," he called out in agony when his body met the ground. His hand fell away, showing his
exposed wound. Hermione put a hand to her lips, almost vomiting. Parts of his insides— intestines,
probably—were visible, pushing out through the cut on his abdomen.

"I'm here," Hermione answered with a shaky voice.

She grabbed some floo powder and threw it into the fireplace. It roared to life.

"St. Mungo's," she said, and then she grabbed the top of his robes near his shoulders and pulled
with all her might. Titus was tall and muscular, so she struggled with his weight, knowing each
additional second could mean life or death, but finally, with one last tug, she managed to get
through.

St. Mungo's was bursting with activity. Whatever happened, several aurors and multiple citizens
must have been injured. Dozens of Healers rushed around with men and women floating behind
them. One had horrible burns down both arms. Another had a section of their face blown off,
looking already dead.

"Help!" She cried. But no one could hear her. The chaos was too great.

She grabbed the next healer by the robes and swung the woman around to help her.

"This is Titus Nott! If you don't save him right now, he'll die."

The healer's eyes widened, recognizing Titus. Without waiting, she levitated him. He was
unconscious, arms hanging limp at his side, blood dripping steadily against the floor. It left a trail
as the healer hurried away.

Hermione stared at the blood splatters on the ground. The adrenaline caught up to her as she
pressed herself to the wall, shivering in terror.

Another scream roused her from her fear. She looked up to see a beautiful woman with dark skin
and a crown of tiny braids, clutching a injured child to her chest.

Like they did her, no one seemed to be paying attention to the mother in the panic. Hermione
jumped into action, rushing forward. The child's head was covered in blood, and his arm looked
mangled.

"We need to stop the bleeding," Hermione said. She didn't know much about first aid, but she did
know wounds needed pressure. The woman looked at her, eyes blown wide with fear. Hermione
took off her over robe, and using the sleeves, she tightened it around the boy's arm. It didn't do
much. The boy needed real help and soon.

"What happened?' Hermione asked, trying to distract the mother.

"An attack on the ministry," the woman said through tears. "I was visiting to bring lunch to
Thorfinn, but the Order arrived. There was a battle with the aurors, and then an explosion."

A healer finally noticed them, bustling over.

"Oh, you poor dear," the older woman said. "Give him to me. Children take priority."

The woman and child were whisked away, leaving Hermione alone, with nothing but her thoughts.
It took until the woman disappeared to realise that she'd interacted with a breeder— a muggleborn
with a child.

Without something to do, Hermione's fear returned. The reality shifted through her:

That was Titus' blood on the ground.

His organs were exposed.

He could die.

And one of the last things she would have said to him was that she didn't want to spend time with
him. She buried her head in her hands and slid to the floor, knees up, face down.

Titus could die.

It was all she could think about. The fear made a loop in her mind, spikes of it pulling her into a
dark pit. She sat there, attempting to get lost in her own darkness, unwilling to look up until she felt
a hand on her head.

"Hermione?" Theo's voice was raw.

She stood up and fell into her brother's arms. Theo cried against her shoulder, and for the first time
since childhood, a tear escaped and trailed down her cheek.

Hermione curled up in a chair near Titus' hospital bed. She hadn't left for days, except when
Tabitha forced her home to eat and shower.

At the moment, Theo stood next to his brother's bed, staring at his steadily rising and falling chest,
as if scared it might somehow stop.

"The healer said he should wake up soon," Hermione said, voice stripped of emotion.

Theo sighed.

"I can't face him right now. These past few months have been torture, but I— Harry refuses to
answer my owls. He's dropped out of school, and I have no idea where he is. Ron's missing too.
There's a terrible rumour they've joined the Order, but I refuse to believe it." He was silent for a
moment, frowning. "I never told you, but I loved him… and not just as a friend. Though I guess
none of that matters now."
Hermione had suspected that for a long time, and she understood his anger toward his brother.

But her own anger died to embers with the threat of his death. She'd been so stupid and selfish. She
knew what he'd told her was true and that all of his actions were to protect her. She still didn't like
the rules or agree with them, but she couldn't fault Titus for enforcing them.

"Give Harry time. He must understand it wasn't you."

Even to her ears, it sounded false.

Theo shook his head and glanced at his brother with all the hurt and love he possessed. He seemed
older, as if inside the length of a few weeks he'd transformed from a child into a man. He was still
much too thin, but his jaw had dark scruff, and he held himself with a more serious countenance
than before.

"When Titus wakes, tell him—" He sucked in a breath. "Tell him that I love him, and that I'll
probably forgive him in time."

"I'll tell him."

Theo gave a nod in her direction.

"Goodnight, Hermione."

"Goodnight."

When he walked out, Hermione got up and crawled into the hospital bed next to Titus. She
arranged his arms so that she could lay her head on his chest and let his steady heartbeat comfort
her.

She awoke when Titus lifted her hand from his chest. He stared at it much like Draco had in the
glade, as if to read her future.

"You saved me," he whispered, lips close to the top of her head.

"Of course, I did. Why wouldn't I?"

"I'm not sure of anything anymore." He sighed.

"Who did this?"

His free hand stroked down her arm. His heart beat steadily under her ear, gaining pace the longer
she talked to him.

"A rat in our ranks. We were in the process of transporting Thibodeaux, when the Order attacked,
and an auror tried to curse me in the back. I managed to discover the betrayal last minute, though
not fast enough. The curse slit my stomach. I tried to suture it, but it must have been dark magic,
because it kept reopening." He kissed the top of her head, lingering and taking a deep breath. "I
thought I would die… and I could only think of you."

"Me?"

"I worried about what would happen to you if I died. Theo wouldn't have the knowledge of politics
to keep you safe." He lifted his wrist. "I think your protection rune worked. That curse should have
killed me. It's my lucky charm."
"What happened to my— to Thibodeaux?"

Titus stiffened under her, and then his body relaxed again.

"The Order managed to rescue him. I know you probably feel relieved he's still alive, but I don't
want to hear it. Not today."

Again, the guilt overwhelmed her. If she hadn't taken the books, none of this would have happened.
Hermione choked her tears back before they could fall.

"I'm sorry," she said. "I disobeyed, and—"

"It doesn't matter anymore." He hesitated when she placed her hand on the upper part of his chest,
muscles tensing under her touch. "I understand you've been struggling, but you need to
communicate with me. Tell me what you want and need. I'll provide everything that you think
might help make home comfortable for you. I want you to be happy."

He tried to make her feel better, but the thought of the isolation in the manor with just Titus,
Tabitha, and occasionally Theo for company made her stomach twist in dread.

She tried to be happy with her circumstances, but she knew deep down nothing could go back to
what it had been. She'd never noticed the bars of her cage before, and now they gleamed bright in
the dark, no longer feeling benevolent. No longer feeling like protection.

"Do you still hate me?" he whispered. It sounded more vulnerable than she'd ever heard him.

She shook her head.

"I can't hate you."

He tugged her into a tighter hold and kissed the top of her head again. They rested in silence, while
she listened to the steady thump of his heart.

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